ho turned anxious
faces towards them.

'Well,' said Marjorie, 'anything new?'

'Nothing since we saw you.'

'There hasn't been time, of course,' said Marjorie. 'We couldn't rest,
so we came along to see you.'

'Let's go down to the shore,' said Allan. 'Can't talk here.'

A window was thrown open on the upper story of the house, and a little
voice cried, 'Wait a minute, people! don't go away! I'm coming too.'

'Tricksy awake already!' said Marjorie; 'that child will make herself
ill.'

In a few minutes a little figure emerged from the front door, and
Tricksy ran towards them.

'What are you going to do?' she said. 'Is there any news?'

'Nothing at all, Tricksy,' said Marjorie; 'we were only going down to
the shore to talk.'

The little girl slipped her hand confidingly into Allan's and walked
beside him, trying to accommodate her steps to his long stride.

'Hullo, there's Euan Macdonnell,' said Allan. 'He was at the trial
yesterday; let's ask him about it.'

The fine frank-faced young coastguard touched his cap to the girls and
waited to be spoken to.

'Euan,' said Allan abruptly; speaking in Gaelic, which was always most
convenient for the islanders if a conversation was likely to be long;
'we know about Neil. You were there; tell us about the trial.'

'Well, Mr. Allan, it was a very bad business, and we none of us
expected it to go as it did. Poor Neil was most frightfully cut up
about it, and no wonder, poor fellow. What he felt most was that some
of the people were against him when he thought they would be quite sure
to believe in his honesty, no matter what might have happened.'

'So they ought,' declared Allan. 'Any one who knows Neil in the least
would know that whether he sent away that order or not, he would never
have stolen it, and that there must have been a mistake.'

'Of course there must have been,' said Euan, 'and I'm glad to hear you
say so, Mr. Allan.'

'Suppose things were to go wrongly,' said Marjorie; 'I mean, supposing
that nothing is found out that will help to clear Neil when he comes
before the Edinburgh court, what will he have to expect?'

Tricksy's eyes were growing wider, and the pink in Marjorie's cheeks
became deeper.

'I am afraid the penalty for the poor lad would be two or three years
in prison, Miss Marjorie. It's a serious crime, you know;
house-breaking, and robbing his Majesty's mails. We can only hope it
won't come to that.'

The hearers all dre