As day succeeded day, my mind became filled by increasing suspicion.

Mystery surrounded me on every hand.
Indeed, by one curious fact alone it was increased a hundredfold.
Late one afternoon, when I had been out shooting all day with the Rannoch party, I drove back to the castle in the Perth-cart with three other men, and found the ladies assembled in the great hall with tea ready.

A welcome log-fire was blazing in the huge old grate, for in October it is chilly and damp in Scotland and a fire is pleasant at evening.
Muriel was seated upon the high padded fender--like those one has at clubs--which always formed a cosy spot for the ladies, especially after dinner.

When I entered, she rose quickly and handed me my cup, exclaiming as she looked at me-- "Oh, Mr.Gregg! what a state you are in!" "Yes, I was after snipe, and slipped into a bog," I laughed.

"But it was early this morning, and the mud has dried." "Come with me, and I'll get you a brush," she urged.