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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Tut, tut, Moira, I have just said I do not know." "Is he ill, Papa?" Again the girl's voice grew faint. "No, no, not ill. I wish he were! I mean it is some business matter you cannot understand. But it must be serious if Mr. Rae asks my presence immediately. So you must hasten, child."
I left Moira with Cumshaw and groped about in the darkness, hoping to find our missing tent, but I might as well have been hunting for the proverbial needle in a bundle of hay for all the chance I had.
How could I tell her that the girl she had chastised so undeservedly had died in early womanhood, and her son, a fine young man of twenty, had committed suicide, and flung himself off the bridge into the Moira river only a few months before. Her insanity saved her from the knowledge of events, which might have distracted a firmer brain.
"Yes, I know perfectly," said her brother, "for I had the same notion. For instance, for six months I was a 'servant' in Mandy's home, eh, Mandy?" "Nonsense!" cried Mandy indignantly. "You were our hired man and just like the rest of us." "Do you get that distinction, Moira? There is no such thing as servant in this country," continued Cameron.
"It hadn't occurred to me before, Moira," he said with a bright impersonal smile that robbed his remark of all suggestion of masculine flattery, "but it seems to me I'm unusually glad to see you, also. You've been fixing your hair different." The soft lambent glow leaped again into Moira's eyes. He had noticed her particularly. "Do you like my hair done that way?" she inquired eagerly.
For a wonder I had no difficulty in getting connected with either the doctor or the police, and, once I had made my meaning plain, I hung up and returned to Moira. "The police'll be here in ten minutes at the outside," I said. "I've got just that time to make you word-perfect. You've got the cartridges? Thanks. I only want one. Now listen.
But where'll we go?" "Any of the inner rooms. The drawing-room, say. That hasn't got any windows opening out on to the garden." Moira caught my arm. "Come on, Jim," she cried, "I'm dying to know what is in it." "The more haste the less speed," I remarked soberly. "Likewise there's many a slip between the cup and the lip."
There was a strange man rather prevalent around him all day yesterday and I noticed a fellow following my car last night. He was on a bicycle and followed me home. I communicated my suspicions to Ogilvy, and this morning he spent two hours trying to shake the same man off his trail and couldn't. So I judge your uncle will learn to-day that you dined with Ogilvy, Moira, and me last night."
Clearly it was a situation that called for an immense amount of care on my part. I had no time to waste puzzling the matter out; whatever I did had to be done as quickly as possible, for I had no guarantee that the one-sided warfare might not terminate fatally at any moment. One of the attackers was just as likely to hit Moira as she was to hit him.
Rumor places among the supporters of this measure the written authority of the Duke of Northumberland and the Earl of Moira, with the signatures of Messrs. Erskine, Sheridan, Shum, Curwen, Western, Brogden, and a long et caetera.
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