During the prize-giving Mrs MacDonald and her two daughters, who stood on either side to hand her the prizes for presentation to the embarrassed winners, must have lost between them not less than seven pounds of weight, so furiously hot was the inside of the tent, crowded with people who had not won prizes and through whose serried ranks those who had won prizes were compelled to fight their way to get within reach of Mrs MacDonald’s gracious hand. After this the Chieftain made his annual speech and was dug in the back by his daughter Catriona because he began as usual, ‘Fellow clansmen and clanswomen, and all my good friends, in spite of the weather … I mean thanks to the glorious weather, I think we can say that of the very many great gatherings this dear old glen of ours has seen, the Glenbogle Gathering of this year has surpassed all its predecessors …” But there is no need to continue, for such speeches whether made by the Squire at a flower-show in Hampshire or by the Highland Chieftain upon his native heath are all essentially the same.

“Well, Carrie,” the Chieftain asked when they were all back in the Great Hall and he had just drunk a highball as high as Ben Booey itself and a great deal more yellow, “well, Carrie, how did you enjoy your first Glenbogle Gathering?”

“Oh, it was marvellous, Ben Nevis.”

“Where’s the MacRoyde?” asked the Chieftain, whose wit had been stimulated by that majestic highball.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him for a long while.” But it was not until Carrie went up to dress for dinner, and found no sign of Chester in his dressing-room and Wilton, his man, with what she called that British look on his face, that she began to wonder if anything had happened to him.

“Where’s Mr Royde, Wilton?”

“I don’t know, madam. Is he not downstairs?”

“I haven’t seen him since before we left the field.”

“I’ll go downstairs, madam, and make some enquiries.”

Presently the valet came back to inform his mistress that nobody had seen Mr Royde.

“It’s mighty queer, Wilton.”

“It is indeed, madam.”

Carrie went along to her room to dress, but when dinner-time came and she joined the rest of the house-party in the Great Hall there was no Chester.

Chapter 15

THE FIRST PRISONER

THE DISAPPEARANCE OF Chester Royde cast a gloom over what should have been as festive an evening as Glenbogle Castle had ever known. Hector had found Myrtle an apt pupil in the eightsome reel which they had practised together in the library for half an hour before dinner, but what sister could have the heart to dance reels when her only brother had vanished?

Ben Nevis expressed the mood of all the guests when he said that after a very quick dinner they must send out search-parties.