"I suppose you are detesting me with all your might," he remarked as they seated themselves. "You have all my sympathy. I should detest myself if I were you. But you have had her for a good many years, haven't you? It is high time that she flew off with me." "Is she going to fly?" Dick asked with interest. "I could put up with getting married myself if my wife came in an aeroplane and took me for a jolly good flight. I could chuck her out if I didn't like her," he added, with a grin. "The very first time I ever flew in my life," Major Campbell said, "was in a balloon, and I played at the game of chucking out, and got a fright which I am convinced caused my hair to turn prematurely grey. Would you like to hear about it?" "Ra-_ther_!" Dick and Jerry replied together. (Now perhaps the mystery of the blood might be explained.) So Major Campbell told them the story that they already knew nearly as well as he did himself--in fact, Mollie found herself on the point of correcting him upon one or two points. He told it well, better than he had done on that agitating occasion so many years ago, but--he did not divulge the mystery. It was almost too tantalizing to be endured. Mollie had to keep repeating to herself "A Guide's Word is _Always_ to be Trusted," as she reflected upon that most provoking promise extracted from her by Prue. It was so long ago, surely a question, one question, would not matter now. Unfortunately it was also, as Mollie expressed it to herself "so short ago" that she could remember Prue's words only too plainly: "_You must not ask questions however much you want to_." It is true that she had broken the rule once, but it had been in forgetfulness, not deliberately. Dick and Jerry were perhaps less picturesque in the manner of their vows, but they certainly had no intention of breaking them. It was Aunt Mary who unconsciously came to the rescue: "And what _was_ the blood that wasn't blood?" "Oh, that! That was merely--that was merely----" Major Campbell stopped and began to laugh. "Merely what? Be quick," said dear Aunt Mary, "we are longing to know." "I am sorry--I hate to let you down, but it was only dye. Desmond had a notion that he could make a fortune with a native dye factory--vegetable dyes, you know. But it never came to anything. I think it is rather a pity he didn't persevere; he might have done something with it." Dye! Well, of all the prosaic endings to a thrilling tale! And yet, when the children came to think of it, what else could it have been? They were annoyed at themselves for not thinking of such an obvious thing. Major Campbell laughed again when he saw the blank look on three faces. "It's a poor end-up, isn't it?" he said. "Why did you force me into it? But there is still the stone, if you would like to see it. You will find it over there on the writing-table." Dick fetched the stone--the identical stone they had last seen in Hugh's hand forty years ago. After all, the end was not so prosaic!