Straight down it fell with a tremendous flutter, and disappeared over the edge of its native cliff.
MacRummle went on his knees, and, craning his neck, replaced his glasses; but nothing whatever could be seen, save the misty void below. Shrinking back from the giddy position, he rose and pulled out his watch.
“Let me see,” he muttered, “it will take me a full hour to go round so as to reach the bottom. No; too late. I’ll go home, and send the keeper for it in the morning. The eagle may have picked its bones by that time, to be sure; but after all, a raven is not much of a trophy.”
While he was thus debating, a very different scene was taking place below.
Barret had been gazing up at the eagle when the shot was fired. He saw the spout of smoke. He heard the crashing shot and echoes, and beheld the eagle descending like a thunder-bolt. After that he saw and heard no more, for, in reaching forward to see round a projecting rock that interfered with his vision, his foot slipped, and he fell headlong from the cliff. He had not far to fall, indeed, and a whin bush broke the force of the shock when he did strike; but he was rendered insensible, and rolled down the remainder of the slope to the bottom. There he lay bruised, bleeding, and motionless on the grass, close to the road, with his bent and broken gun beneath him, and the dead eagle not more than a dozen yards from his side!
“It is not like Barret to be late,” observed the laird that evening, as he consulted his watch. “He is punctuality itself, as a rule. He must have fallen in with some unusually interesting plants. But we can’t wait. Order dinner, my dear, for I’m sure that my sister must be very hungry after her voyage.”
“Indeed I am,” returned the little old lady, with a peculiar smile. “Sea-sickness is the best tonic I know of, but it is an awful medicine to take.”
“Almost as good as mountain air,” remarked MacRummle, as they filed out of the drawing-room. “I do wish I had managed to bring that raven home.”
At first the party at dinner was as merry as usual. The sportsmen were graphic in recounting the various incidents of the day; Mrs Moss was equally graphic on the horrors of the sea; MacRummle was eulogistic of repeating rifles, and inclined to be boastful about the raven, which he hoped to show them on the morrow, while Milly proved herself, as usual, a beautiful and interested listener, as well as a most hearty laugher.
But as the feast went on they became less noisy. Then a feeling of uneasiness manifested itself, but no one ventured to suggest that anything might have occurred to the absentee until the evening had deepened into night. Then the laird started up suddenly. “Something must have happened to our friend,” he exclaimed, at the same time ringing the bell violently. “He has never been late before, and however far he may have gone a-field, there has been more than time for him to return at his slowest pace. Duncan,” (as the butler entered), “turn out all the men and boys as fast as you can. Tell Roderick to get lanterns ready—as many as you have. Gentlemen, we must all go on this search without another moment’s delay!”