Captain Dove turned restlessly in the chair on which he had scarcely sat down. Sallie knew that he was intensely superstitious, as so many seamen are, and that that shadowed hall would be the last place in which he would be willing to hear ghost-stories.
"Huh!" said he, irritably. "I don't believe a word of it, anyhow. What are we waiting for now? Gimme some soup, or something, you!"
He was still scowling over his shoulder at a surprised servant when, in an instant, there rose from behind the tapestry in a dark corner a low, moaning wail which swelled and sank and swelled again to a bitter, blood-curdling shriek. Captain Dove's face blanched as he pushed his chair from under him and sprang to his feet, armed with the nearest available weapon, a table-knife. The servant behind him had stepped back, in obvious alarm.
A man came striding out of the dusk in the distant corner, and, as he marched proudly up the room, the blare of the bagpipes over his shoulder seemed to make the very rafters ring. Twice he encircled the table, and then passed out of sight by the farther door.
Captain Dove had sat down again, grinding his teeth audibly. To cover his confusion, Sallie turned to the butler behind her chair, and, "What tune was that?" she asked, pleasantly.
Her face flushed as the Highlandman answered, in careful English, "It will be none other than the Welcome to Jura that your ladyship's head-piper would play this night."
She would have been even happier in her wonderful new home if she had not thought of Justin Carthew again at that moment, and of the difference her coming had made to him. She wished that she had been able to tell him at once, on the Warder's Tower, what was once more in her mind as she looked lovingly round the banquet-hall of Loquhariot—from which she had ousted him. She could not forget how gallantly he had faced fate at every turn, always making little of his own share in the tragic happenings which had involved them both.
She felt that she could not rest until she had set herself right with him, and made up her mind that as soon as dinner was over, she would ask Mairi or Mrs. M'Kissock to send a message down to the inn for her.
But dinner, under such conditions, was a long business. And, although both Mr. Jobling and Jasper Slyne did their best to make the time pass pleasantly for her, she was very glad when a message the butler brought her gave her an excuse for leaving the table a little before she would otherwise have got away.
She had hoped to escape alone, but Slyne had overheard what the man had said and accompanied her to the hall, where the old housekeeper was awaiting her.