"None--except an old servant of Achree who lives somewhere about the Edgeware Road," said Malcolm with a sudden flash of remembrance. "Don't wear such a worried look, old chap, and don't forget that Isla is twenty-six years of age and more capable than either of us of looking after herself."
"But, hang it all, she's a woman, Malcolm, and--and your sister ought not to be adrift like that!"
"She isn't adrift," said Malcolm cheerily. "And, anyway, what can we do? If she chooses to hide herself, as she seems to be doing, who is to prevent her? She has her reasons for doing so, no doubt."
Neil Drummond was conscious of a growing indignation, of a swift return of his old rage against Malcolm, and of scorn of that careless, irresponsible being who had made life such a burden to the woman whom Neil himself loved. He withdrew with a snort into his own corner and jumped out at Callander with a very curt good-bye.
He put through his business there very quickly and returned to Lochearnhead by the earliest possible train. During the whole journey he was racking his brains as to how and where he could discover the address of the old servant of whom Malcolm had spoken. He knew Isla's ways, and he was aware that it had always been her delight when in London to look up any of her own folk who were settled there. He ran over in his memory the servants at Achree with whom he had been familiar, but he could not fix his mind on anyone in particular. Diarmid, however, who had been with the Mackinnons for nearly thirty years, would surely be able to help him. He would go to Diarmid.
His bicycle had been left at the station, because the train had offered a quicker way of getting over the heavy roads to Callander. He now took it out and rode swiftly down the hill to Lochearn and up Glenogle towards Creagh.
Neil had all the swift impetuosity of the Celt in his blood, and he did not let the grass grow under his feet.
He was fortunate, however, in obtaining the information he desired about half way up, at the farm-house of Darrach, where he came upon Elspeth Maclure taking her washing down off the lines in the front garden.
He swung himself off his machine, set it against the drystone dyke, and pushed open the little gate.
Elspeth, surprised and pleased by this little attention, hastened to ask him into the house.