bout what has happened. We feel we can trust him, but
you never know a man's propensity for talking until you know him very
well."

"Right," I agreed. "I'll take care of that. We can't afford to get
this talked about. It would be very painful for Myra and her father if
it became the chatter of the country-side."

"Besides," Garnesk pointed out, "it will be much safer to be quiet
about it. If we are dealing with men they will probably prove to be
desperate men, and we don't want to run any risks that we can avoid."

"No," said I, "this is going to be quite unpleasant enough without
looking for trouble."

So when we arrived in Mallaig and met Hilderman on the fish-table I
was careful to remember my companion's advice.

"Ah, Mr. Ewart!" the American exclaimed in surprise, "How are you? And
you, Professor? I hope your visit has proved entirely satisfactory.
How is Miss McLeod?"

"Just the same, I am sorry to say," Garnesk replied glibly. "There
is no sign at all of her sight returning. I can make nothing of it
whatever."

"Dear, dear, Professor!" Hilderman exclaimed, with a shake of the
head. "That is very bad, very bad indeed. Haven't you even any idea
as to how the poor young lady lost her sight?"

"None whatever," said Garnesk, with a hopeless little shrug. "I can't
imagine anything, and I'm not above admitting that I know nothing.
There is no use my pretending I can do anything for poor Miss McLeod
when I feel convinced that I can't."

"So you've given it up altogether, Mr. Garnesk?" Hilderman asked, as
we strolled to the station.

"What else can I do?" the oculist replied. "I can't stop up here for
ever, much as I should prefer to stay until I had done something for
my patient."

"You have my sympathy, Mr. Ewart," said Hilderman in a friendly voice.
"It is a terrible blow for you all. I fervently hope that something
may yet be done for the poor young lady."

"I hope so too," I answered, with a heavy sigh, but the sigh was
merely a convincing response to the lead Garnesk had given me, for, as
a matter of fact, I was quite certain that we had found the basis of
complete cure.

"Yes," Hilderman muttered, as if thinking aloud, "it is a very
terrible and strange affair altogether. Have you had any news about
the dog?"

"None whatever," I replied, this time with perfect truth.

"Surely you must suspect somebody, though," the American urged. "It is
a very sparsely populated neighbourhood, you know."

"W