"I--I don't
quite understand," she faltered.
Charles scrambled out of it somehow. "White heather for luck," he
said, "and--the man who is privileged to give a piece of it to you
is surely lucky."
She smiled, none too well pleased. I somehow felt she suspected us
of suspecting her.
However, as it turned out, nothing came, after all, of the untoward
incident.
Next day Charles burst upon me, triumphant. "Well, he has shown
his hand!" he cried. "I knew he would. He has come to me to-day
with--what do you think?--a fragment of gold, in quartz, from the
Long Mountain."
"No!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," Charles answered. "He says there's a vein there with distinct
specks of gold in it, which might be worth mining. When a man begins
_that_ way you know what he's driving at! And what's more, he's got
up the subject beforehand; for he began saying to me there had long
been gold in Sutherlandshire--why not therefore in Ross-shire?
And then he went at full into the comparative geology of the two
regions."
"This is serious," I said. "What will you do?"
"Wait and watch," Charles answered; "and the moment he develops a
proposal for shares in the syndicate to work the mine, or a sum of
money down as the price of his discovery--get in the police, and
arrest him.
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