.

"I suppose you haven't decided what specialist you will take her
to when you get her to London?" he queried. I was about to reply when
I heard Sholto in a heated argument with some other dog, and I bolted
out, with a hurried excuse, to bring him in. As I returned, with my
hand on his collar, the harbour-master greeted me, and told me
we might have some difficulty in reaching London, as the train
service was likely to be disorganised owing to the transport of troops
and munitions. When I rejoined Hilderman I was full of this new
development. It would be both awkward and unpleasant to be turned out
of the train before we reached London; and every moment's delay might
mean injury to my poor Myra.

"I don't think you need worry at all, Mr. Ewart," my new friend
assured me. "The trains will run all right. They may alter the
services where they have too many trains, but here they are not likely
to do so. Thank heaven, I shall not be travelling again for some time.
I hate it, although I have to run about a good deal. I have a few
modest investments that take up a considerable portion of my time. I
figure on one or two boards, you know."

I thanked him for his kindly interest, and left him. I wired to Dennis
not to meet the train, but to be prepared to put me up the following
night. Then I got the tickets, and took Myra to the train. Hilderman
was seeing his friend off; a short, somewhat stout man, with flaxen
hair, and small blue eyes peering through a pair of large spectacles.
He bowed to us as we passed, and I was struck by the kindly sympathy
with which both he and his companion glanced at Myra. Evidently they
both realised what a terrible blow to her the loss of her sight must
be. I will admit that, when it came to the time for the train to
start, my heart nearly failed me altogether. The sight of the
beautiful blind girl saying good-bye to her dog was one which I hope I
may never see again. As the train steamed out into the cutting Sholto
was left whining on the platform, and it was as much as Angus could do
to hold him back. Poor Sholto; he was a faithful beast, and they were
taking his beloved mistress away from him. Myra sat back in the
carriage, and furtively wiped away a tear from her poor sightless
eyes.

"Poor old fellow," she said, with a brave smile. "If they can't do
anything for me in London he will have to lead me about. It'll keep
him out of mischief."

"Don't say that, darling!" I groaned.

"Poor