and vegetable.

It may be imagined that all these unusual incidents were not allowed to
pass without malicious comment. Over the whole countryside and as far
away as the English border there was nothing but gossip about the new
tenants of Cloomber Hall and the reasons which had led them to come
among us.

The only hypothesis, however, which the bucolic mind could evolve, was
that which had already occurred to Mr. McNeil, the factor--namely, that
the old general and his family were one and all afflicted with madness,
or, as an alternative conclusion, that he had committed some heinous
offence and was endeavouring to escape the consequences of his misdeeds.

These were both natural suppositions under the circumstances, but
neither of them appeared to me to commend itself as a true explanation
of the facts.

It is true that General Heatherstone's behaviour on the occasion of our
first interview was such as to suggest some suspicion of mental disease,
but no man could have been more reasonable or more courteous than he had
afterwards shown himself to be.

Then, again, his wife and children led the same secluded life that he
did himself, so that the reason could not be one peculiar to his own
health.

As to the possibility of his being a fugitive from justice, that theory
was even more untenable. Wigtownshire was bleak and lonely, but it was
not such an obscure corner of the world that a well-known soldier could
hope to conceal himself there, nor would a man who feared publicity set
every one's tongue wagging as the general had done.

On the whole, I was inclined to believe that the true solution of the
enigma lay in his own allusion to the love of quiet, and that they
had taken shelter here with an almost morbid craving for solitude and
repose. We very soon had an instance of the great lengths to which this
desire for isolation would carry them.

My father had come down one morning with the weight of a great
determination upon his brow.

"You must put on your pink frock to-day, Esther," said he, "and you,
John, you must make yourself smart, for I have determined that the three
of us shall drive round this afternoon and pay our respects to Mrs.
Heatherstone and the general."

"A visit to Cloomber," cried Esther, clapping her hands.

"I am here," said my father, with dignity, "not only as the laird's
factor, but also as his kinsman. In that capacity I am convinced that he
would wish me to call upon these newcome