"And why the envy, may I ask?"
"Because the fortunes of many are lower than ours. The Duggans were always the wealthiest clan in this part of the country. The other clans were poor. They are still poor. And we, too, are poorer than we were. The land takes nearly all our income to wrest something from its wildness besides the heather and the stretches of gorse-covered moor. We herd the flocks on those parts, Mr. Deland, but cultivation of the rest is very difficult. It is too wild, too barren. And the other big houses are indeed envious of our wonderful lighting arrangements. It has been the root of much friendly quarrelling among us. But the villagers are terrified!"
"I can well understand that—in this uncivilized quarter," put in Cleek with a smile. "Many, I have no doubt, still use the old rushlight of former days.... Ah, here is the village. My man and I had better put up at the local hotel, Miss Duggan, as a couple of fishermen— I'll be bound your salmon is wonderful in these parts, and I for one love the sport—and then we can effect an introduction by the aid of our mutual friend, Miss Lorne, and perhaps to-morrow I might be permitted to call upon you. How does that satisfy your mind?"
She put out a hand to him with an impetuosity that was foreign to her.
"It satisfies me splendidly. You are more than kind to take such an interest. Put up at the Three Fishers, by all means, Mr. Deland. The landlord is a kindly soul, and will give you every attention, I know. And then, if you will be good enough, call to-morrow morning—unless I have to send for you before then. And if so, how shall I do that?"
The hack drew up in front of the Inn of the Three Fishers and Cleek and Dollops dismounted, the latter entering the inn with their baggage, while Cleek stood at the side of the carriage, leaning over the edge of it to speak to its sole occupant. Beyond him, directly opposite to them, the village street broke off into a slope that led down into the valley, rock-bound and lichened over with heather-bells and the outstretched arms of prickly gorse-bushes. While on an adjacent hill directly in front and rising out of the valley itself up a steep mountainside stood Aygon Castle, its many windows commanding a distant view of the village, and practically upon a level with it, so that some of those same windows faced upon those of the inn, with the street and then the valley and the hillside on which it stood between.
Cleek waved a hand toward it now.
"Which is your own window?" he asked softly.
She pointed. "Fourth from the left. That tall, narrowish slit-like one. It has mullioned panes—see? There are only three others like that on this side. The fourth from the left is mine. Why?"
"Because," said Cleek meaningly, "if you want me, put a light in that window—a red light, for preference, as at this distance it would be easier to see. And light and re-light it three times. I shall be on the watch. And if not I, my man Dollops. Until to-morrow morning, when I shall call. Remember—three times, if you want me, and I shall come immediately—in my professional guise or not, as you like. And keep up your heart, Miss Duggan. Things may not be as black as you think. Fourth from the left, isn't it?"