l," replied Cairn, "he's queer."

"That's no news," said Sime, filling his pipe; "we all know he's a
queer chap. But he's popular with women. He'd make a fortune as a
nerve specialist."

"He doesn't have to; he inherits a fortune when Sir Michael dies."

"There's a pretty cousin, too, isn't there?" inquired Sime slyly.

"There is," replied Cairn. "Of course," he continued, "my governor and
Sir Michael are bosom friends, and although I've never seen much of
young Ferrara, at the same time I've got nothing against him. But--"
he hesitated.

"Spit it out," urged Sime, watching him oddly.

"Well, it's silly, I suppose, but what does he want with a fire on a
blazing night like this?"

Sime stared.

"Perhaps he's a throw-back," he suggested lightly. "The Ferraras,
although they're counted Scotch--aren't they?--must have been Italian
originally--"

"Spanish," corrected Cairn. "They date from the son of Andrea Ferrara,
the sword-maker, who was a Spaniard. Caesar Ferrara came with the
Armada in 1588 as armourer. His ship was wrecked up in the Bay of
Tobermory and he got ashore--and stopped."

"Married a Scotch lassie?"

"Exactly. But the genealogy of the family doesn't account for Antony's
habits."

"What habits?"

"Well, look." Cairn waved in the direction of the open window. "What
does he do in the dark all night, with a fire going?"

"Influenza?"

"Nonsense! You've never been in his rooms, have you?"

"No. Very few men have. But as I said before, he's popular with the
women."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean there have been complaints. Any other man would have been sent
down."

"You think he has influence--"

"Influence of some sort, undoubtedly."

"Well, I can see you have serious doubts about the man, as I have
myself, so I can unburden my mind. You recall that sudden thunderstorm
on Thursday?"

"Rather; quite upset me for work."

"I was out in it. I was lying in a punt in the backwater--you know,
_our_ backwater."

"Lazy dog."

"To tell you the truth, I was trying to make up my mind whether I
should abandon bones and take the post on the _Planet_ which has been
offered me."

"Pills for the pen--Harley for Fleet? Did you decide?"

"Not then; something happened which quite changed my line of
reflection."

The room was becoming cloudy with tobacco smoke.

"It was delightfully still," Cairn resumed. "A water rat rose within
a foot of me and a kingfisher was busy on a twig almost at my el