Chapter 2

CHAPTER II ON THE ROAD

THE course of James Starr's ideas was abruptly stopped,
when he got this second letter contradicting the first.

"What does this mean?" said he to himself. He took up the torn envelope,
and examined it. Like the other, it bore the Aberfoyle postmark.
It had therefore come from the same part of the county of Stirling.
The old miner had evidently not written it. But, no less evidently,
the author of this second letter knew the overman's secret,
since it expressly contradicted the invitation to the engineer to go
to the Yarrow shaft.

Was it really true that the first communication was now without object?
Did someone wish to prevent James Starr from troubling himself either
uselessly or otherwise? Might there not be rather a malevolent intention
to thwart Ford's plans?

This was the conclusion at which James Starr arrived,
after mature reflection. The contradiction which existed
between the two letters only wrought in him a more keen

desire to visit the Dochart pit. And besides, if after all it was
a hoax, it was well worth while to prove it. Starr also thought it
wiser to give more credence to the first letter than to the second;
that is to say, to the request of such a man as Simon Ford,
rather than to the warning of his anonymous contradictor.

"Indeed," said he, "the fact of anyone endeavoring to influence my
resolution, shows that Ford's communication must be of great importance.
To-morrow, at the appointed time, I shall be at the rendezvous."

In the evening, Starr made his preparations for departure.
As it might happen that his absence would be prolonged for some days,
he wrote to Sir W. Elphiston, President of the Royal Institution,
that he should be unable to be present at the next meeting
of the Society. He also wrote to excuse himself from two
or three engagements which he had made for the week.
Then, having ordered his servant to pack a traveling bag,
he went to bed, more excited than the affair perhaps warranted.

The next day, at five o'clock, James Starr jumped out of bed,
dressed himself warmly, for a cold rain was falling, and left his
house in the Canongate, to go to Granton Pier to catch the steamer,
which in three hours would take him up the Forth as far as Stirling.

For the first time in his life, perhaps, in passing along the Canongate,
he did NOT TURN TO LOOK AT HOLYROOD, the palace of the former
sovereigns of Scotland. He did not notice the sentinels who stood
before its gateways, dressed in the uniform of their Highland regiment,
tartan kilt, plaid and sporran complete. His whole thought was to reach
Callander where Harry Ford was supposedly awaiting him.

The better to understand this narrative, it will