_’Come all ye jolly shepherds,_ _That whistle through the glen,_ _I’ll tell ye of a secret_ _That courtiers dinna ken._ _What is the greatest bliss_ _That the tongue o’ man can name?—_ _’Tis to woo a bonnie lassie_ _When the kye come hame.’_ ’Great heavens!’ said Mr. Hodson to himself, ’such a voice—and all Europe waiting for a new tenor! But at seven or eight and twenty I suppose he is beyond training.’ The refrain became more and more distant: _’When the kye come hame,_ _When the kye come hame,_ _’Twixt the gloamin’ and the mirk,_ _When the kye come hame.’_ Both the keeper and the little trotting terrier had disappeared now, having turned a corner of the road where there was a clump of trees. The traveller who had wandered into these remote wilds sate down for a minute or two to sum up his investigations of the evening, and they were these: ’Accounts of the deer seem shaky; but there may have been bad shooting this last year, as he says. The salmon-fishing sounds more likely; and then Carry could come with us in the boat—which would make it less dull for her. Anyhow, I have discovered the most remarkable man I have met with as yet in the old country; and to think of his being thrown away like that!’ *CHAPTER II.* *MEENIE.* We may now follow Ronald Strang as he walks along to his cottage, which, with its kennels and its shed for hanging up the slain deer, stands on a little plateau by the roadside, a short distance from the inn. The moonlight night is white and beautiful, but far from silent; for the golden plover are whistling and calling down by the lochside, and the snipe are sending their curious harsh note across the moorland wastes. Moreover, he himself seems to be in a gay mood (perhaps glad to be over the embarrassment of a first meeting with the stranger), and he is conversing amicably with his little terrier. The subject is rats. Whether the wise little Harry knows all that is said need not be determined; but he looks up from time to time and wags his stump of a tail as he trots placidly along. And so they get up to the cottage and enter, for the outer door is on the latch, thieves being unheard of in this remote neighbourhood; though here Harry hesitates, for he is uncertain whether he is to be invited into the parlour or not. But the next moment all consideration of this four-footed friend is driven out of his master’s head. Ronald had expected to find the parlour empty, and his little sister, at present his sole housekeeper, retired to rest. But the moment he opens the door, he finds that not only is she there, sitting by the table near to the solitary lamp, but that she has a companion with her. And well he knows who that must be. ’Dear me, Miss Douglas,’ he exclaimed, ’have I kept you so late!’