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Fifteen miles away to seaward, a certain black rock stood environed by the Atlantic rollers, the outpost of the Torran reefs. Here was a tower to be built, and a star lighted, for the conduct of seamen.

"I'm thinking," said Alan, "these'll be what they call the Torran Rocks." "Are there many of them?" says the captain. "Truly, sir, I am nae pilot," said Alan; "but it sticks in my mind there are ten miles of them." Mr. Riach and the captain looked at each other. "There's a way through them, I suppose?" said the captain. "Doubtless," said Alan, "but where?

If you ever read this tale, you will likely ask yourself more questions than I should care to answer: as, for instance, how the Appin murder has come to fall in the year 1751, how the Torran rocks have crept so near to Earraid, or why the printed trial is silent as to all that touches David Balfour. These are nuts beyond my ability to crack.

Fifteen miles away to seaward, a certain black rock stood environed by the Atlantic rollers, the outpost of the Torran reefs. Here was a tower to be built, and a star lighted, for the conduct of seamen.

"I'm thinking," said Alan, "these'll be what they call the Torran Rocks." "Are there many of them?" says the captain. "Truly, sir, I am nae pilot," said Alan; "but it sticks in my mind there are ten miles of them." Mr. Riach and the captain looked at each other. "There's a way through them, I suppose?" said the captain. "Doubtless," said Alan, "but where?