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The head of the trading firm was a long, loose-jointed Yankee who had drifted West in his youth. Since then he had acquired gray hairs and large business interests. At Inspector MacLean's message he grinned. "Thinks it's bad business, does he?" "Told me to tell you so," Tom answered. "Didn't say why, I guess." "No."
"Can any one tell me when Miss MacLean's time expires?" The person under discussion answered for herself. "On the last day of the month, Mr. President." "Oh, very well." He was extremely polite in his manner. "We thank you for your very full and hmm comprehensive report. After to-night you are excused from your duties at Saint Margaret's."
It was late of a holiday afternoon. A storm was brewing, darkening all the water, and erecting above the sweep of woods monstrous towers of gray cloud. There must have been an echo, for MacLean's sigh came back to him faintly, as became an echo. "Is there not peace here, 'beyond the sea'?" said Truelove softly. "Thine must be a dreadful country, Angus MacLean!"
I, though less eager, did not oppose him. That we might perform this expedition, it was necessary to traverse a great part of Mull. We passed a day at Dr. Maclean's, and could have been well contented to stay longer. But Col provided us horses, and we pursued our journey. This was a day of inconvenience, for the country is very rough, and my horse was but little.
They are doing very well with a subscription for a bell for the Free Church at Iona. The deer have been down at John Maclean's barley again. Would I like to visit the weaver at Iona who has such a wonderful turn for mathematics? and would I like to know the man at Salen who has the biographies of all the great men of the time in his head?"
"Well, the next time I called at Miss Maynard's rooms I found that she and her father were gone gone to Colonel Maclean's house, so the landlady said. I footed it out there and asked to see her. She came downstairs and met me, crying. "'My father will never rise from his bed again, Mr. Watson, she says, 'and I have promised to marry Colonel Maclean to-morrow.
Marget Maclean's little shop was the dullest in the street, but it was the anteroom of fairydom for Gilian who borrowed books there with the pence cozened from Miss Mary. In the choosing of them he had no voice. He had but to pay his penny and Marget would peer through her glasses at the short rows of volumes until she came upon the book she thought most suited for her customer.
No, he had never made poetry, he confessed, though he had often felt it, as good as some of the poetry he had read in Marget Maclean's books that were still the favourites of his leisure hours. "It'll be in that like other things," she said with some sense of her own cruelty. "You must be dreaming it when you might be making it." "I never had the inspiration "
On their way they were joined by Sandy Fraser, a tall, thin, old man, with grey hairs escaping from under his bonnet. Sandy had been Mr Maclean's constant attendant from his boyhood, and had followed him to many parts of the world which he had visited before he settled down in his Highland home. On reaching the loch, they found a boat, and Sandy took the oars.
We hired two Bapedi boys to carry some of our goods. One was named Indogozan; I forget the name of the other. They turned out to be lazy scoundrels, and gave endless trouble by loitering. On weighing our "swags" at Mac Mac the day we started, Maclean's and mine tipped the scale at fifty-six pounds each. Those of the boys weighed, respectively, about fifteen pounds less.
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