“Goslin!” exclaimed the Baronet, in great surprise.  “I’ll go to him at once; and Hill, serve breakfast for two in the library, and tell Miss Gabrielle that I do not wish to be disturbed this morning.”

“Very well, Sir Henry;” and the man bowed and went down the broad oak staircase.

“Goslin here, without any announcement!” exclaimed the Baronet, speaking to himself.  “Something must have happened.  I wonder what it can be.”  He tugged at his collar to render it more comfortable; and then, with a groping hand on the broad balustrade, he felt his way down the stairs and along the corridor to the big library, where a stout, grey-haired Frenchman came forward to greet him warmly, after carefully closing the door.

“Ah, mon cher ami!” he began; and, speaking in French, he inquired eagerly after the Baronet’s health.  He was rather long-faced, with beard worn short and pointed, and his dark, deep-set eyes and his countenance showed a fund of good humour.  “This visit is quite unexpected,” exclaimed Sir Henry.  “You were not due till the 20th.”

“No; but circumstances have arisen which made my journey imperative, so I left the Gare du Nord at four yesterday afternoon, was at Charing Cross at eleven, had half-an-hour to catch the Scotch express at King’s Cross, and here I am.”

“Oh, my dear Goslin, you always move so quickly!  You’re simply a marvel of alertness.”

The other smiled, and, with a shrug of the shoulders, said, “I really don’t know why I should have earned a reputation as a rapid traveller, except, perhaps, by that trip I made last year, from Paris to Constantinople, when I remained exactly thirty-eight minutes in the Sultan’s capital.  But I did my business there, nevertheless, even though I got through quicker than messieurs les touristes of the most estimable Agence Cook.”

“You want a wash, eh?”

“Ah, no, my friend.  I washed at the hotel in Perth, where I took my morning coffee.  When I come to Scotland I carry no baggage save my tooth-brush in my pocket, and a clean collar across my chest, its ends held by my braces.”

The Baronet laughed heartily.  His friend was always most resourceful and ingenious.  He was a mystery to all at Glencardine, and to Lady Heyburn most of all.  His visits were always unexpected, while as to who he really was, or whence he came, nobody—­not even Gabrielle herself—­knew.  At times the Frenchman would take his meals alone with Sir Henry in the library, while at others he would lunch with her ladyship and her guests.  On these latter occasions he proved himself a most amusing cosmopolitan, and at the same time exhibited an extreme courtliness towards every one.  His manner was quite charming, yet his presence there was always puzzling, and had given rise to considerable speculation.

Hill came in, and after helping the Frenchman to take off his heavy leather-lined travelling-coat, laid a small table for two and prepared breakfast.