. She had got about half a mile when Dennis, coming
up to the top of the cliff on his self-imposed coastguard duties, saw
her and recognised her through his binoculars.

He ran down to the landing-stage, putting on his red glasses as he
went. His horror was complete when he found there was no craft of any
kind about, not even a rowboat. Alas! I had idiotically allowed the
dinghy to drift away. He ran along the shore, every now and then
looking anxiously through his binoculars for any sign of any kind of
boat that would get him over to Glasnabinnie in time to fulfil his
promise of looking after "Ron's little girl."

Myra has since admitted--and how proud I was to hear her say it--that
she forgot about everything and everybody except that I was in danger,
and probably Hilderman knew something about it. Her one thought was to
hold the pistol to his head and demand my safe return.

She came ashore a little beyond the house, having made a rather wide
detour, so that she should not be seen. She knew the best way to the
hut, and there was a light in it. She thought Hilderman would be
there. She had passed well to seaward of the _Fiona_, and noticed that
she was standing by with steam up. Myra climbed the hill to the hut
with as much speed as she could.

Hilderman was standing below the door of the smoking-room talking to
three men. She knew that she would have no chance, even with a
revolver, against four men. She might hurt one of them, but she
recognised, fortunately, that the others would overpower her.

Eventually Hilderman went into the hut, and two of the men stayed
outside talking. The other went down the hill. It was in watching
this man that Myra saw the sight that had astonished me, the
continuous stream of lights down the bed of the burn. She waited, so
she said it seemed, for hours and hours, before she could see a real
chance of attacking Hilderman.

Indeed, neither she nor Dennis can give any very clear idea precisely
how long it was that she waited there, but it must have been a
considerable time. At last Hilderman was alone. Myra crept to the edge
of the little plateau on which the hut stood, and then made a dash for
the door. She thrust it open and stepped inside, pulling it to behind
her. Hilderman sprang to his feet with an oath as he saw her.

"Heavens!" he cried. "You!"

Myra drew the revolver and presented it at him.

"Put up your hands, Mr. Hilderman," she said, with a calmness that
astonished