He leaped ashore.

‘Have you heard anything?’ asked Bude.

‘They saw a boat on the loch about seven o’clock,’ said Mr. Macrae, ’coming from the head of it, touching here, and then pulling west, round the cliff.  They thought the crew Sabbath-breakers from the lodge at Alt Garbh.  What’s that,’ he cried, at last seeing Blake, who lay supported against a rock, his eyes shut.

Merton rapidly explained.

‘It is as I thought,’ said Mr. Macrae resolutely.  ’I knew it from the first.  They have kidnapped her for a ransom.  Let us go home.’

Merton and Bude were silent; they, too, had guessed, as soon as they discovered Blake.  The girl was her father’s very life, and they admired his resolution, his silence.  A gate was taken from its hinges, cloaks were strewn on it, and Blake was laid on this ambulance.

Merton ventured to speak.

’May I take your boat, sir, across to the ferry, and send the fishermen from the village to search each end of the loch on their side?  It is after midnight,’ he added grimly.  ’They will not refuse to go; it is Monday.’

‘I will accompany them,’ said Bude, ’with your leave, Mr. Macrae, Merton can search our side of the loch, he can borrow another boat at the village in addition to yours.  You, at the Castle, can organise the measures for to-morrow.’

‘Thank you both,’ said Mr. Macrae.  ’I should have thought of that.  Thank you, Mr. Merton, for the idea.  I am a little dazed.  There is the key of the boat.’

Merton snatched it, and ran, followed by Bude and four gillies, to the little pier where the boat was moored.  He must be doing something for her, or go mad.  The six men crowded into the boat, and pulled swiftly away, Merton taking the stroke oar.  Meanwhile Blake was carried by four gillies towards the Castle, the men talking low to each other in Gaelic.  Mr. Macrae walked silently in front.

Such was the mournful procession that Lady Bude ran out to meet.  She passed Mr. Macrae, whose face was set with an expression of deadly rage, and looked for Bude.  He was not there, a gillie told her what they knew, and, with a convulsive sob, she followed Mr. Macrae into the Castle.

‘Mr. Blake must be taken to his room,’ said Mr. Macrae.  ’Benson, bring something to eat and drink.  Lady Bude, I deeply regret that this thing should have troubled your stay with me.  She has been carried off, Mr. Blake has been rendered unconscious; your husband and Mr. Merton are trying nobly to find the track of the miscreants.  You will excuse me, I must see to Mr. Blake.’

Mr. Macrae rose, bowed, and went out.  He saw Blake carried to a bathroom in the observatory; they undressed him and put him in the hot water.  Then they put him to bed, and brought him wine and food.  He drank the wine eagerly.

‘We were set on suddenly from behind by fellows from a boat,’ he said.  ’We saw them land and go up from the cove; they took us in the rear:  they felled me and pegged me out.  Have you my poems?’