It was not until two days afterwards that we obtained full information by letter of what was known regarding the proceedings of Frederick Smethurst, who, it appears, before he bolted, had laid hands on every farthing of money he could touch, and borrowed from the credulous among his friends; so that there remained no reasonable doubt that the story he had told his niece was among his other deceptions, and that she was left penniless. No one was surprised. It had been almost a foregone conclusion. Mary Avon seemed to care little about it; the loss of her fortune was less to her than the shame and dishonour that this scoundrel had brought on her mother’s name. But this further news only served to stir up once more the Laird’s slumbering wrath. He kept looking at his watch. "She’ll be off Easdale now," said he to himself; and we knew he was speaking of the steamer that was bringing his nephew from the south. By and by—"She’ll be near Kerrara, now," he said, aloud. "Is it not time to drive to the quay?" It was not time, but we set out. There was the usual crowd on the quay when we got there; and far off we could descry the red funnels and the smoke of the steamer. Mary Avon had not come with us. "What a beautiful day your nephew must have had for his sail from the Crinan," said the Laird’s gentle hostess to him. Did he not hear her? Or was he absorbed in his own thoughts? His answer, at all events, was a strange one. "It is the first time I have asked anything of him," he said almost gloomily. "I have a right to expect him to do something for me now." The steamer slows in; the ropes are thrown across; the gangways run up; and the crowd begins to pour out. And here is a tall and handsome young fellow who comes along with a pleasant smile of greeting on his face. "How do you do, Mr. Smith?" says Queen T., very graciously—but she does not call him "Howard" as she calls Dr. Sutherland "Angus." "Well, uncle," says he, brightly, when he has shaken hands all round, "what is the meaning of it all? Are you starting for Iceland in a hurry? I have brought a rifle as well as my breechloader. But perhaps I had better wait to be invited?" This young man with the clear, pale complexion, and the dark hair, and dark grey eyes, had good looks and a pleasant smile in his favour; he was accustomed to be made welcome; he was at ease with himself. He was not embarrassed that his uncle did not immediately answer; he merely turned and called out to the man who had got his luggage. And when we had got him into the waggonette, and were driving off, what must he needs talk about but the absconding of Mr. Frederick Smethurst, whom he knew to be the uncle of a young lady he had once met at our house. "Catch him?" said he with a laugh. "They’ll never catch him." His uncle said nothing at all. When we reached Castle Osprey, the Laird said in the hall, when he had satisfied himself that there was no one within hearing—