probably had his own reasons. Possibly Dennis was right,
and the man was a detective. But I had seen him at King's Cross and
again at Edinburgh before we reached Ardlui, so I thought it might
embarrass him if I walked in on the top of his assertion that he had
just come from the Clyde. However, Myra was with me, which was much
more important, and I dismissed Hilderman and his little fib from my
mind.

"Ronnie," said Myra, in the middle of lunch, "you haven't said
anything about the war."

"No, dear," I answered clumsily. "It----" It was an astonishingly
difficult thing to say when it came to saying it.

"And yet that was what you came to see me about?"

"Yes, darling. You see, I----"

"I know, dear. You've come to tell me that you're going to enlist. I'm
glad, Ronnie, very glad--and very, very proud."

Myra turned away and looked out of the window.

"I hate people who talk a lot about their duty," I said; "but it
obviously is my duty, and I know that's what you would want me to do."

"Of course, dear, I wouldn't have you do anything else." And she
turned and smiled at me, though there were tears in her dear eyes.
"And I shall try to be brave, very brave, Ronnie. I'm getting a big
girl now," she added pluckily, attempting a little laugh. And though,
of course, we afterwards discussed the regiment I was to join, and how
the uniform would suit me, and how you kept your buttons clean, and a
thousand other things, that was the last that was said about it from
that point of view. There are some people who never need to say
certain things--or at any rate there are some things that never need
be said between certain people.

After lunch we strolled round the "fish-table," a sort of subsidiary
pier on which the fish are auctioned, and listened to the excited
conversations of the fish-curers, gutters, and fishermen. It was a
veritable babel--the mournful intonation of the East Coast, the broad
guttural of the Broomielaw, mingled with the shrill Gaelic scream of
the Highlands, and the occasional twang of the cockney tourist. Having
retrieved Sholto, who was inspecting some fish which had been laid out
to dry in the middle of the village street, and packed him safely in
the bows, we set out to sea, Myra at the engine, while I took the
tiller. As we glided out of the harbour I turned round, impelled by
some unknown instinct. The parson's dog was standing at the head of
the main pier, seeing us safely off the premises, an