That night, after dinner, father and daughter went out for a stroll; for by this time the moon was drawing to its full again; and all the world lay peaceful and silent in the wan clear light. They had not emerged from the trees in front of the inn on to the white pathway of the road when a sound in the distance caught Miss Carry’s ears, and instantly she touched her father’s arm and drew him back into the shadow. She wanted to hear what song this was that Ronald was singing on his homeward way. At first she could make out nothing but fragments of the air—clear and soft and distant— [Illustration: Music fragment] but as he drew nearer the words become more distinct: And kiss’d her ripe ros-es, and blest her black e’e; And aye since whene’er we meet, sing, for the sound is sweet, "I was a-sleep but ye’ve wak-en’d me.’ [Illustration: Music fragment] So clear and penetrating and careless and joyous was this singing!—her heart was stirred with pride as she listened; this was not the voice of a man who would trouble himself with any whipper-snapper criticism;—nay, she began to wonder that she had wasted so much indignation on so trivial a thing. Then there was a sudden silence, except for his footfall; and presently the dark figure appeared out there on the white road—his shadow a sharp black in front of him, the little terrier trotting behind him—and in a minute or so the long swinging stride had carried him past their ambush on his homeward way to the cottage. ’What a splendid voice that fellow has got!’ her father said, as they also now went out on to the white highway, and took the opposite direction. ’He seems to be very well contented with himself,’ she said, rather absently. *CHAPTER VII.* *A LAST DAY ON THE LOCH.* Ronald came down to the loch-side the next morning just as she was about to get into the coble—her father having started a few minutes before. ’I hear you have not been doing very well with the fishing,’ said he, in that brisk, business-like fashion of his. ’The salmon appear to have gone away somewhere,’ she replied. ’Oh, but that will never do,’ said he cheerfully. ’We must try and make some alteration.’ He took the key of the kennels from his pocket. ’Here, Johnnie lad, ye may go and take the dogs out for a run.’ Was Ronald, then, coming with her? Her eyes brightened with anticipation; there was a welcome in the look of her face that ought to have been sufficient reward for him. Nor had she the courage to protest—though she knew that his time was drawing short now. As for the salmon—well, it was not about salmon she was thinking exclusively. ’They say a change of gillie sometimes brings a change of luck,’ said he good-naturedly; and he began to overhaul the tackle, substituting smaller minnows for those already on. ’And I think we will try down at the other end of the loch this time. We will make sure of some trout in any case.’