There was
some word o' fittin' up the auld hoose i' the toon, 'cause lord
Forgue didna care aboot bein' at the castel ony langer. It's strange
ye haena h'ard, sir!"
Donal stood absorbed in awful hearing. Surely some letter must have
miscarried! The sure and firm-set earth seemed giving way under his
feet.
"I will run up to the castle, and hear all about it," he said. "Look
after my mare, will you?"
"But I'm tellin' ye, sir, ye'll fin' naebody there!" said the man.
"They're a' gane frae the hoose ony gait. There's no a sowl aboot
that but deif Betty Lobban, wha wadna hear the angel wi' the last
trump. Mair by token, she's that feart for robbers she gangs til her
bed the minute it begins to grow dark, an' sticks her heid 'aneth
the bed-claes--no 'at that maks her ony deifer!"
"Then you think there is no use in going up?"
"Not the smallest," answered the inn-keeper.
"Get me some supper then. I will take a look at my mare."
He went and saw that she was attended to--then set off for the
castle as fast as his legs would carry him. There was foul play
beyond a doubt!--of what sort he could not tell! If the man's report
was correct, he would go straight to the police! Then first he
remembered, in addition to the other reported absences, that before
he left with Davie, the factor and his sister had gone together for
a holiday: had this been contrived?
He mounted the hill and drew near the castle.
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