"I sent you a telegram asking you whether you would mind if I trespassed upon your hospitality for a night or so."
He saw Linda's eyes fixed upon him with some anxiety, and he continued at once:
"I sent it from Loch Boisdale."
A wave of relief passed over Linda's face.
"It will not come up until the morning," she said with a smile.
"As a matter of fact, the driver brought it up with him," said Glynn. And Martin handed to Mrs. Thresk the telegram. Over his shoulder, Glynn saw Thresk raise his head. He had been standing by the table listening to what was said. Now he advanced. He was a tall man, powerfully built, with a strongly-marked, broad face, which was only saved from coarseness by its look of power. They made a strange contrast, the husband and wife, as they stood side by side--she slight and exquisitely delicate in her colour, dainty in her movements, he clumsy and big and masterful. Glynn suddenly recalled gossip which had run through the town about the time of their marriage. Linda had been engaged to another--a man whose name Glynn did not remember, but on whom, so the story ran, her heart was set.
"Of course you are very welcome," said Thresk, as he held out his hand, and Glynn noticed with something of a shock that his throat was bandaged. He looked towards Linda. Her eyes were resting upon him with a look of agonised appeal. He was not to remark upon that wounded throat. He took Thresk's hand.
"We shall be delighted if you will stay with us as long as you can," said Thresk, "We have been up here for more than three months. You come to us from another world, and visitors from another world are always interesting, aren't they, Linda?"
He spoke his question with a quiet smile, like a man secretly amused. But on Linda's face fear flashed out suddenly and was gone. It seemed to Glynn that she was at pains to repress a shiver.
"Martin will show you your room," said Thresk. "What's the matter?"