“Take a man like MacDonald of Ben Nevis,” Alan urged. “He’s a friend of yours. But you must see how fatal that kind of stodgy comfortable existence is to any display of national energy. A man like that could do so much to give a lead to the country. But what does he do? Shoots, stalks, fishes, forbids camping on his land and thinks he has fulfilled his political duty if he votes against a measure of reform which will put a halfpenny on the Inverness-shire rates. We’re not going to kidnap him. I give you my word about that. But think how much being kidnapped would widen the point of view of a landed proprietor like that. Men of his type require mental shocks imaginatively applied. They move in a rut.”

“The whole country’s moving in a rut,” said James solemnly. “And the whole country’s got to be jolted out of it.”

“By poetic action,” the bard insisted, rising to his feet and apparently ready to begin such action immediately.

“I’m so glad I chose to-day to visit Glenbristle,” Carrie said. “I’m still a little hazy about just what you are going to do, but it’s so wonderful to feel that something really is going to be done. I feel more positive than ever that I was guided to Glenbristle to-day by some higher power for a purpose. Do you have women in your secret society?”

“We have women members, yes,” James Buchanan answered doubtfully.

“Well, won’t you accept me as a member? I’d be so happy to help you kidnap anybody except Ben Nevis. I think I’d have to make him an exception because he has been so intensely hospitable, and I should feel a little mean about helping to kidnap him.”

“Well, of course personally, Mistress Royde, I would welcome you as a member,” said James, who had not forgotten that promise of hers to give him introductions to the right people in Canada. “But I think it’ll have to be referred to the Inner Council.”

“Of which James and I are both members,” the bard added encouragingly.

“I suppose you have an annual subscription?” Carrie asked.

“We have voluntary donations,” James replied. “The trouble with annual subscriptions was that if a member got in arrears with his we couldn’t expel him. It’s not like a club or an ordinary society. Once you’ve admitted somebody to a secret society he knows too much. So we had to substitute voluntary donations for a regular subscription.”

“I hope you found that satisfactory,” Carrie asked.

“Oh, it’s not too bad. We’ve had to spend a good deal on paint, but there’s still a small balance in hand.”

“On paint?”

“Imphm! Painting slogans in Gaelic and English on public buildings.”