lise the tragedy.

"I've been too stunned till now to grasp what's happened," he said in a
moment. "Our best friend gone, Miss Farmond!"

He had said exactly the right thing now.

"He certainly was mine!" she said.

"And mine too. We may live to be a brace of Methuselahs, but I guess
we'll never see his like again!"

His odd phrase made her smile for a moment despite herself. It passed
swiftly and she said:

"_I_ can't believe it yet."

Again there was silence, and then he said abruptly:

"It's little wonder you can't believe it. The thing is so extraordinary.
It's incredible. A man without an enemy in the world--no robbery
attempted--sitting in his own library--in just about the most peaceful
and out of the way county in Scotland--not a sound heard by anybody--not
a reason that one can possibly imagine--and yet murdered!"

"But it must have been a robber surely!"

"Why didn't he rob something then?"

"But how else----?"

"How indeed! You've not a suspicion of any one yourself, Miss Farmond?
Say it right out if you have. We don't lynch here. At least," he
corrected himself as he recalled the telegraph posts, "it hasn't been
done yet."

"I _can't_ suspect any one!" she said earnestly. "I never met any one in
my life that I could possibly imagine doing such a thing!"

"No," he said. "I guess our experiences have been pretty different. I've
met lots, but then there are none of those boys here. Who is there in
this place?"

He paused and stared into space.

"It must have been a tramp--some one who doesn't belong here!"

"I was trying to think whether there are any lunatics about," he said in
a moment. "But there aren't any."

There was silence for some minutes. He was thinking; she never moved.
Then he heard a sound, and looking down saw that she had her
handkerchief in her hand. He had nearly bent over her before he
remembered Sir Malcolm, and at the recollection he said abruptly:

"Well, I've disturbed you too long. If I can do anything--anything
whatever, you'll let me know, won't you?"

"You are very, very kind," she murmured, and a note in her voice nearly
made him forget the new baronet. In fact, he had to retire rather
quickly to be sure of himself.

The efficiency of James Bisset was manifest at every conjuncture.
Businesslike and brisk he appeared from somewhere as Cromarty reached
the hall, and led him from the front regions to the butler's sitting
room.

"I will bring your lunch in a