CHAPTER XII.
WHO IS HILDERMAN?
I must admit that I was so delighted to find that Myra had recoveredher sight that I very nearly made what might have been a very seriousmistake. I gave a loud shout of triumph and made a dive for the light,intending to switch it on. This might, of course, have had a very badeffect upon my darling's eyes, but fortunately Garnesk darted acrossthe room and knocked up my arm in the nick of time.
"Not yet, Ewart, not yet," he warned me. "We must run no risks untilwe are quite sure."
"But, Ronnie, I can see quite well," Myra declared delightedly. "I seeeverything just as easily as I usually can by the light of thedark-room lamp."
"Still, we won't expose you to the glare of white light just atpresent, Miss McLeod," said Garnesk solemnly. "We must be verycareful. Tell me, how did your sight return, gradually or suddenly?"
"Suddenly, I think," the girl replied. "I took off the shade and laidit down, and then when I looked up I could distinctly see the lamp."
"Immediately the shade was removed?"
"No," she answered, "not just immediately. You see, I was looking atthe floor, which is so dark, of course, that you couldn't see it inthe ordinary way. Then as soon as I looked up I could see the lamp.For a moment I thought it was my imagination, but when I found I couldsee Ron stooping over the developing-dish I knew that I was all rightagain."
"This is very extraordinary, you know," said Garnesk. "Can you countthe bottles on the middle shelf?"
"Oh, yes!" laughed Myra, "I can make them out distinctly. Of course, Iknow pretty well what they are, but in any case I could easilydescribe them to you if I'd never seen them before."
"What have I got in my hand?" the specialist queried, holding his armout.
"A pair of nail-clippers," Myra declared emphatically, and Garnesklaughed.
"Well," he said, "you can obviously see it pretty well; but, as amatter of fact, it's a cigar-cutter."
"Oh! well, you see," the girl explained airily, "I always putnecessity before luxury!"
So then the oculist made her sit down again and questioned andcross-questioned her at considerable length.
"I'm puzzled, but delighted," he admitted finally. "It's strange, butit is at the same time decidedly hopeful."
"I suppose it means that she will always be able to see in a red lightat any rate?" I suggested.
"Probably it does," he agreed, "and, of course, her sight may becompletely restored. There is also a middle course; she may be able tosee perfectly after a course of treatment in red light. I will get hera pair of red glasses made at once. We can see how that goes. But Ifeel that it would be advisable to introduce her to daylight ingradual stages, in case of any risk."
"Oh, if we could only find poor old Sholto!" Myra exclaimed eagerly.Garnesk turned to her with a look of frank admiration.
"You're a lucky young dog, Ewart," he whispered to me, "by Jove youare!"
So Myra graciously, but a little regretfully I think, placed herselfin the hands of the young specialist and replaced her shade. Then weleft the dark-room, allowing the films to develop out on the floor,and went downstairs. We took her out on to the verandah and removedthe shade for a moment, but the chill air of the highland night madeher eyes smart after their unaccustomed imprisonment, and we gave upthe experiment for that night.
As Garnesk and I bathed together in the morning we were both brighterand more cheerful than we had been since his arrival.
"I shall catch the train from Mallaig," he declared. "Can you take mein and meet your friend without having long to wait?"
"If you insist on going," I replied, "I can get you there in time tomeet him and you will have an hour or more to wait for your train."
"Oh, so much the better! We can tell him everything and give him allthe news in the interval."
"Are you still determined to go?" I asked.
"Yes," he said, "I _must_ go. It will be necessary for me to make oneor two inquiries and get a pair of glasses made for Miss McLeod."
"I shall be very sorry to lose you, Garnesk," I said earnestly. "Don'tyou think you could write or wire for the glasses? You see, if we havecome to the conclusion that this green ray is some chemical productionof Nature unassisted there isn't the same reason for you to leave us."
"No, that's true," he agreed, "but we were both a bit scaredyesterday, old chap, and the more I think of this dog business theless I like it. It was mere conceit on my part that made me say it wasbound to be some natural phenomenon merely because I couldn'tunderstand how the effect could have been humanly produced."
"Perhaps," I suggested, "our best course would be to keep an open mindabout the whole thing."
"Yes," he replied, "I'm with you entirely. And in that case my goingaway is not going to aggravate the effects of a natural phenomenon,while it may restrain the human agency by removing the necessity forfurther activity."
"Well, that's sound enough," I acquiesced; "but I shall hear from you,I hope?"
"Of course, my dear fellow," he laughed, "we're in this thingtogether. You'll hear from me as often as you want, and who knows whatelse besides. I have no intention of dropping this for a minute,Ewart. But I think I can do more if I am not on the spot. We're agreedthat my presence here may be a source of danger to you all."
"Yes," I said, "I think yours is the best plan. What do you propose todo?"
"Well, to begin with, I shall devote an hour or two to knocking ourpanic theory on the head."
"You mean the natural phenomenon idea?"
"Precisely," said he. "I don't think that it will be able to existvery long in the light of physical knowledge--not that that is a verypowerful light, but it should be strong enough for our purpose. Assoon as I have convinced myself that our enemy is a mere human being Ishall take such steps as I may think necessary at the time. Then, ofcourse, I shall acquaint you with the steps that I have taken, and weshall work together and round up our man, and, figuratively speaking,make him swallow his hideous green ray."
"What sort of steps do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, that all depends," my friend answered, "on what sort of man wehave to deal with. But it will certainly include providing ourselveswith the necessary means of self-defence, and may run to calling inthe assistance of the authorities."
"I'm not sure that the presence of the police in a quiet spot likethis might not have a disastrous effect on our plans," I pointed out.
"I shouldn't worry about the police," he laughed. "I should make forthe naval chaps. I'm rather pally with them just now; I'm booked up todo some work of various descriptions for the period of the war, and Ithink if I can give them the promise of a little fun and excitementthey would be willing to help."
"Which indeed they could," I agreed readily. "Any attempt our enemymight make to get away from us would probably mean a bolt for the opensea, and a few dozen dreadnoughts would be cheerful companionship."
Garnesk laughed, and we strolled up to the house, putting thefinishing touches to our toilet as we went. Shortly after breakfast wemade ready for our trip to Mallaig. Myra was very anxious to come withus until I explained that we should have to wait there till we had metDennis and seen the specialist off. She was naturally sensitive aboutappearing in public with the shade on, poor child, so she readily gaveup the idea.
"I'm very sorry you're going, Mr. Garnesk," said Myra, as she shookhands.
"I shall see you again soon," he replied. "I have by no means finishedwith your case, and as soon as you report the effect of the glasses Ishall send you'll see me come tripping in one afternoon, or else Ishall ask you to come down to me."
"It's very good of you to take so much trouble about it," said Myragratefully.
"Not at all," he responded lightly. "It is a pleasure, Miss McLeod, Iassure you."
The old general was still more effusive of his gratitude, and as hewaved good-bye from the landing-stage his face was almost comicallyeloquent of regret.
"By the way," said Garnesk as we pas
sed Glasnabinnie, "don't tellHilderman much about what has happened. We feel we can trust him, butyou never know a man's propensity for talking until you know him verywell."
"Right," I agreed. "I'll take care of that. We can't afford to getthis talked about. It would be very painful for Myra and her father ifit became the chatter of the country-side."
"Besides," Garnesk pointed out, "it will be much safer to be quietabout it. If we are dealing with men they will probably prove to bedesperate men, and we don't want to run any risks that we can avoid."
"No," said I, "this is going to be quite unpleasant enough withoutlooking for trouble."
So when we arrived in Mallaig and met Hilderman on the fish-table Iwas careful to remember my companion's advice.
"Ah, Mr. Ewart!" the American exclaimed in surprise, "How are you? Andyou, Professor? I hope your visit has proved entirely satisfactory.How is Miss McLeod?"
"Just the same, I am sorry to say," Garnesk replied glibly. "Thereis no sign at all of her sight returning. I can make nothing of itwhatever."
"Dear, dear, Professor!" Hilderman exclaimed, with a shake of thehead. "That is very bad, very bad indeed. Haven't you even any ideaas to how the poor young lady lost her sight?"
"None whatever," said Garnesk, with a hopeless little shrug. "I can'timagine anything, and I'm not above admitting that I know nothing.There is no use my pretending I can do anything for poor Miss McLeodwhen I feel convinced that I can't."
"So you've given it up altogether, Mr. Garnesk?" Hilderman asked, aswe strolled to the station.
"What else can I do?" the oculist replied. "I can't stop up here forever, much as I should prefer to stay until I had done something formy patient."
"You have my sympathy, Mr. Ewart," said Hilderman in a friendly voice."It is a terrible blow for you all. I fervently hope that somethingmay yet be done for the poor young lady."
"I hope so too," I answered, with a heavy sigh, but the sigh wasmerely a convincing response to the lead Garnesk had given me, for, asa matter of fact, I was quite certain that we had found the basis ofcomplete cure.
"Yes," Hilderman muttered, as if thinking aloud, "it is a veryterrible and strange affair altogether. Have you had any news aboutthe dog?"
"None whatever," I replied, this time with perfect truth.
"Surely you must suspect somebody, though," the American urged. "It isa very sparsely populated neighbourhood, you know."
"We can't actually suspect anybody, nevertheless," said I. "On the onehand, it may have been an ordinary, uninteresting thief who stole thedog with a view to selling him again. On the other hand----"
"Well," said Hilderman with interest, as I paused, "on the otherhand?"
"It may have been someone who had other reasons for stealing him," Iconcluded.
"I don't quite follow you."
"Ewart means," said Garnesk, cutting in eagerly, evidently fearingthat I was about to make some indiscreet disclosure of our suspicions,though I had not the slightest intention of doing so, "Ewart meansthat it may have been someone who regarded the dog as a personalenemy. Miss McLeod informs us that there was a man in the hills,ostensibly a crofter, who disliked Sholto, quite unreasonably. Hedrove the dog away from his croft and was very rude to Miss McLeodabout it. She suspected an illicit still, and thought the fellow wasafraid Sholto might nose out his secret and give the show away."
"Ah!" said Hilderman. "An illicit still, eh! Where was this still, or,rather, where was the croft?"
I remembered that Myra had told us it was somewhere up Suardalan way,above Tor Beag, and I was just about to explain, when I felt myfriend's boot knock sharply against my ankle. Taking this as a hintand not an accident, I promptly lied.
"It was miles away," I announced readily, "away up on The Saddle. MissMcLeod wanders pretty far afield with Sholto at times."
"Indeed," said the American, "I should think that might be quite alikely explanation, and rather a suitable place for a still, too. Iclimbed The Saddle some months ago with an enthusiastic friend ofmine. We went by water to Invershiel, and then drove up the Glen. Ishouldn't like to walk from Invermalluch and back; there are severalmountains in between, and surely there is no road."
Evidently our shrewd companion suspected that I had either made amistake or deliberately told him an untruth, but I was quite ready forhim. I had no time to consider the ethics of the matter. I was out toobey what I took to be my instructions, and obey them I did.
"Oh, there are quite a lot of ways of getting there," I repliedairily; "but perhaps the easiest would be to take the motor-boat toCorran and walk up the Arnisdale, or follow the road to Corran andthen up the river. Miss McLeod has her own ways of getting about thiscountry, though, and she may even know some way of avoiding thedifficulties of the Sgriol and the other intervening mountains."
Hilderman looked at me in considerable surprise for a moment.
"You seem to know the district pretty well yourself, Mr. Ewart," heremarked.
"Well, I ought to," I explained; "I was born in Glenmore."
"Oh, I didn't know that," he murmured; "that accounts for it, then."And at that moment we heard the train approaching, and we hurried intothe station to meet our respective visitors.
"Fact or fancy?" asked Garnesk in an undertone as we strolled down theplatform, Hilderman having hurried on ahead.
"Fancy," I replied. "I took it you wanted me to avoid giving him theprecise details."
"Yes, I did," he laughed. "But you certainly made them precise enough.It is better to be careful how you explain these things to strangers."
"Why?" I asked. "If we suspected Hilderman I should be inclined toagree with you that we should feed him up with lies; and if you thinkit will help us at all to suspect him I'm on at once. But as we bothfeel that his disposition is friendly and that we have no cause todoubt him, what is your reason for putting him off the scent everytime? I know you well enough by this time to feel sure that youhaven't been making these cryptic remarks for the sake of hearingyourself speak."
"Here's the train," he said. "I'll tell you later."
I looked along the carriages for Dennis, but I had evidently missedhim, for as I turned back along the platform I found him looking roundfor me, standing amid the _melee_ of tourists and fisherfolk, keepersand valets, sportsmen and dogs, which is typical of the West Highlandterminus in early August, and which seemed little affected by the factthat a state of war existed between Great Britain and the only nationin the world which was prepared for hostilities.
"Well, old man," I greeted him as we shook hands heartily. "You got mywire, of course. I hope you had a decent journey."
"Rather, old chap, I should think I did!" he replied warmly. "Sleptlike a turnip through the beastly parts, and woke up for the bit fromDumbarton on. I also had the luck to remember what you said about thebreakfast and took the precaution of wiring for it. Here I am, and asfit as a fiddle."
"That's great!" I exclaimed cheerily, for Dennis's bright attitude hadexactly the effect on me that it was intended to have--it made me feelabout twenty years younger. "This is Mr. Garnesk, the specialist, whovery kindly came from Glasgow to see Myra. Mr. Garnesk--Mr. Burnham."
The two shook hands, and the oculist suggested lunch. We left thestation to go up to the hotel, but we saw Hilderman and his newlyarrived friend--the same man who had seen me taking Myra up toLondon--walking leisurely up the hill in front of us. Garnesk took myarm.
"Steady, my boy, steady," he said quietly. "We don't want to beoverheard giving the lie to your dainty conversation of a few minutesago. Isn't there anywhere else we can lunch, because they areevidently on the same tack?"
"Yes," I replied, turning back, "there's the Marine just behind you.That'll do us well. Then we can come out and talk freely where there'sno chance of our being overheard."
So we lunched at the Marine Hotel, after which we strolled roundthe harbour, along the most appalling "road" in the history ofcivilisation, popularly and well named "the Kyber." Safely out ofears
hot, I made a hurried mental _precis_ of the events of the pastfew days, and gave Dennis the resultant summary as tersely as I could.
"I'm very glad you had Mr. Garnesk with you," said Dennis at last,with a glance of frank admiration at the young specialist.
"Not so glad as I am," I replied fervently. "What I should have donewithout him heaven only knows. I can't even guess."
"Oh, nonsense!" cried Garnesk, in modest protest. "I haven't beenable to do anything. Our one advance was a piece of pure luck--thediscovery that Miss McLeod could see by the light of a red lamp. Wehave decided to keep that quite to ourselves, Mr. Burnham."
"Of course," agreed Dennis, so emphatically that I laughed.
"Why so decided, Den?" I asked, for I felt that I should like to climbto the topmost pinnacle of the highest peak in all the world and shoutthe good news to the four corners of the earth.
"I'm not a scientist, Ron," Dennis replied. "That may account for theheresy of my profound disbelief in science. I wouldn't cross the roadto see a 'miracle.' The twentieth century is uncongenial to anythingof that sort. Take it from me, old chap, there's a man at the back ofthis--not a nice man, I admit, but an ordinary human being to alloutward appearances--and when we catch a glimpse of his outwardappearances we shall know what to do."
"Yes, _when_ we do," I sighed.
"You mustn't let Ewart get depressed about things, Mr. Burnham. Hevery naturally looks at this business from a different standpoint.With him it is a tragic, mysterious horror, which threatens thewell-being, if not the existence, of a life that is dearer to him thanhis own."
"I'll look after him," said Dennis, with a grim determination whichmade even Garnesk laugh.
"When you two precious people have finished nursing me," I said, "Ihope you'll allow me to point out that that very reason gives me aprior claim to take any risks or run into any dangers that may crop upfrom now on. If there is any trouble brewing, particularly dangeroustrouble, then it is my place to tackle it. I am deeply grateful to youfellows for all you have done and are doing and intend to do, but thenursing comes from the other side. I can't let you run risks in acause which is more mine in the nature of things than yours."
"I fancy," said Dennis, "that even your eloquent speeches will havevery little effect when it comes to real trouble. If danger comesit'll come suddenly, and we shall be best helping our common cause bylooking after ourselves."
"Hear, hear," said Garnesk, and I could only mutter my thanks and mygratitude for the possession of two staunch friends.
"To get back to business," I said presently, "why did you want me tobluff Hilderman like that?"
"Because," said Garnesk slowly, "I'm not sure that Hilderman is theman to take into our confidence too completely. It's not that I don'ttrust the man, but he looks so alert and so cute, and has such adreamy way of pretending he isn't listening to you when you know jollywell that he is, that I have a feeling we ought to be careful withhim."
"Very much what Dennis said about him the first time he saw him. Butif you don't suspect him, and he is a very cute man, why not trust himand have the benefit of his intelligence?"
"How would you answer that question yourself, Ewart?" the specialistasked quietly.
"Oh," I laughed, "I should point out that his cuteness may be the veryreason that we don't suspect him."
"Precisely," Garnesk agreed; "and that is partly my answer as well."
"And the other part?" put in Dennis quietly.
"Well, it's a difficult thing to say, and it's all conjecture. ButI have a feeling that Hilderman is not what he says he is. He hasa knack of doing things, a way of going about here, that gives methe impression he is employing his intelligence, and a very fineintelligence it probably is, all the time. I don't think he is retiredat all. There's a restless energy about the fellow that would turninto a sour discontent if his mind were not fully occupied with workwhich it is accustomed to, and probably enjoys doing."
"Have you anything to suggest?" I asked.
"I have an idea," he replied; "but I haven't mentioned it because itdoesn't satisfy me at all. I have an idea that the man is some sortof detective hard at work all the time. But I can't imagine what sortof detective would take a house up here and keep himself as busy asHilderman appears to be over some case in the neighbourhood. I can'timagine what sort of case it can be."
"What about a secret German naval base in the Hebrides?" I suggested."It's not by any means impossible or even unlikely that the Germanshave utilised the lonely lochs and creeks to some sinister purpose.Many of the lochs are entirely hidden by surrounding mountains, whichcome right down to the edge of a narrow opening, and make the placealmost unnoticeable unless you happen to be looking for it."
"There's something in that, certainly," Garnesk agreed; "but we mustremember he's been here since May. Surely our precious Governmentwould have managed to find what they wanted, and clear it out by thistime. Then again, did they suspect the base, or did they have ageneral idea that war was coming so far back as May?"
"As to the war," Dennis put in, "we don't really know when theauthorities had their first suspicions."
"No," said I; "but I fancy it was not a very definite suspicion untilafter the Archduke was assassinated. But look here, Garnesk, just letus suppose Hilderman really is a Government detective in the guise ofan American visitor. Wouldn't he be just about the man we want, or doyou think it would make too much stir to take him into ourconfidence?"
"Far too much," Garnesk replied emphatically. "It's not that hewould talk; but if he has been here all this time his opponents havegot wind of him long before this, and his arrival on the scene inconnection with our case would give any suspicious character the tipto bolt. I should advise keeping in touch with Hilderman, learn asmuch as you can about him, and be ready to run to him for help if youcome to the conclusion that he is the man to give it."
We sat down among the heather at the foot of the Mallaig Vec road, andlooked out over the harbour.
"Don't turn your heads," said Dennis quietly, "but glance down at thepier."
"Yes," said Garnesk in a moment, "he seems to be as interested in usas we are in him."
Hilderman and his friend were standing on the end of the pier watchingus through their field-glasses.