Mrs. M'Gregor, and, after a moment's hesitation; "she awaited ye're
return with exemplary patience."
"Really, I am sorry I was detained," declared Stuart, replacing his
boot. "How long has she been gone, then?"
"Just the now. No more than two or three minutes. I trust she is no
worse."
"Worse!"
"The lass seemed o'er anxious to see you."
"Well, you know, Mrs. M'Gregor, she comes a considerable distance."
"So I am given to understand, Mr. Keppel," replied the old lady;
"and in a grand luxurious car."
Stuart assumed an expression of perplexity to hide his embarrassment.
"Mrs. M'Gregor," he said rather ruefully, "you watch over me as
tenderly as my own mother would have done. I have observed a certain
restraint in your manner whenever you have had occasion to refer to
Mlle. Dorian. In what way does she differ from my other lady
patients?" And even as he spoke the words he knew in his heart that
she differed from every other woman in the world.
Mrs. M'Gregor sniffed. "Do your other lady patients wear furs that
your airnings for six months could never pay for, Mr. Keppel?" she
inquired.
"No, unfortunately they pin their faith, for the most part, to gaily
coloured shawls. All the more reason why I should bless the accident
which led Mlle. Dorian to my door."
Mrs. M'Gregor, betraying, in her interest, real suspicion, murmured
_sotto voce_: "Then she _is_ a patient?"
"What's that?" asked Stuart, regarding her surprisedly. "A patient?
Certainly. She suffers from insomnia."
"I'm no' surprised to hear it."
"What do you mean, Mrs. M'Gregor?"
"Now, Mr. Keppel, laddie, ye're angry with me, and like enough I am
a meddlesome auld woman. But I know what a man will do for shining
een and a winsome face--nane better to my sorrow--and twa times have
I heard the Warning."
Stuart stood up in real perplexity. "Pardon my density, Mrs.
M'Gregor, but--er--the Warning? To what 'warning' do you refer?"
Seating herself in the chair before the writing-table, Mrs. M'Gregor
shook her head pensively. "What would it be," she said softly, "but
the Pibroch o' the M'Gregors?"
Stuart came across and leaned upon a corner of the table. "The
Pibroch of the M'Gregors?" he repeated.
"Nane other. 'Tis said to be Rob Roy's ain piper that gives warning
when danger threatens ane o' the M'Gregors or any they love."
Stuart restrained a smile, and, "A well-meaning but melancholy
retainer!" he commented.
"As well as I hear you now, laddie, I heard the pibroch on the day a
certain woman first crossed my threshold, nigh thirty years ago, in
Inverary. And as plainly as I heard it wailing then, I heard it the
first evening that Miss Dorian came to this house!"
Torn between good-humoured amusement and real interest, "If I remember
rightly," said Stuart, "Mlle. Dorian first called here just a week ago,
and immediately before I returned from an Infirmary case?"
"Your memory is guid, Mr. Keppel."
"And when, exactly, did you hear this Warning?"
"Twa minutes before you entered the house; and I heard it again the
now."
"What! you heard it to-night?"
"I heard it again just the now and I lookit out the window."
"Did you obtain a glimpse of Rob Roy's piper?"
"Ye're laughing at an old wife, laddie. No, but I saw Miss Dorian away
in her car and twa minutes later I saw yourself coming round the
corner."
"If she had only waited another two minutes," murmured Stuart. "No
matter; she may return. And are these the only occasions upon which
you have heard this mysterious sound, Mrs. M'Gregor?"
"No, Master Keppel, they are not. I assure ye something threatens. It
wakened me up in the wee sma' hours last night--the piping--an' I lay
awake shaking for long eno'."
"How extraordinary. Are you sure your imagination is not playing you
tricks?"
"Ah, you're no' takin' me seriously, laddie."
"Mrs. M'Gregor"--he leaned across the table and rested his hands upon
her shoulders--"you are a second mother to me, your care makes me feel
like a boy again; and in these grey days it's good to feel like a boy
again. You think I am laughing at you, but I'm not. The strange
tradition of your family is associated with a tragedy in your life;
therefore I respect it. But have no fear with regard to Mlle. Dorian.
In the first place she is a patient; in the second--I am merely a
penniless suburban practitioner. Good-night, Mrs. M'Gregor. Don't
think of waiting up. Tell Mary to show Mademoiselle in here directly
she arrives--that is if she really returns."
Mrs. M'Gregor stood up and walked slowly to the door. "I'll show
Mademoiselle in mysel', Mr. Keppel," she said,--"and show her out."
She closed the door very quietly.
THE SCORPION'S TAIL
Seating himself at the writing-table, Stuart began mechanically to
arrange his papers. Then from the tobacco jar he loaded his pipe,
but his manner remained abstracted. Yet he was not thinking of the
phantom piper but of Mlle. Dorian.
Until he had met this bewilderingly pretty woman he had thought that
his heart was for evermore proof against the glances of bright eyes.
Mademoiselle had disillusioned him. She was the most fragrantly lovely
creature he had ever met, and never for one waking moment since her
first visit, had he succeeded in driving her bewitching image from
his