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added, “but the land remembers.”
    Turning once more to the young man beside him, he said, “I know something that will be of use to you in your fight to save the estate, Captain Stuart.”
    His use of the old rank sent a quiver of recognition through James, who dismissed it saying, “I’m not in the army anymore.”
    “No, not anymore. But once a soldier… eh?” He smiled his ghostly smile.
    “How do you know about my legal problems?” James asked, and then considered that almost everyone hereabouts knew about the trouble he was having holding on to the estate — at least, that part of the estate which had been given to his parents by the late Duke of Morven.
    “I know you stand to inherit the gillie’s lodge and two hundred acres of good meadow and pine forest if the adjudication upholds your claim.”
    “You’re not a solicitor, are you?”
    “I have been many things,” the stranger answered. Again James got the distinct impression the man was immensely older than he seemed. “But I think I would remember if I was ever a solicitor.” He shook his head slowly, almost wearily. “No, no, I’m not a lawyer of any stripe. I am simply what one might call a student of the land.”
    “What do you know that could help me?”
    The old man’s eyes flicked towards him. “Ah” — he smiled quickly — “you are a practical man. I like that. I like that very much. We shall get on well together, I think.”
    “I’m waiting.”
    “I think I can convince the proper authorities of the truth of your right to the estate.”
    James stared at the strange man beside him. As ludicrous as the claim sounded, it was said with such authority he believed Embries completely. “I can’t pay you,” he told him. “Legal fees are costing me an arm and a leg as it is.”
    “Then I will make a bargain with you,” Embries said. “I will help you with your problem, and you will help me with a little problem of my own.”
    “But you’re not going to tell me what that is, right?”
    “Not just yet.”
    James frowned. “How did I know you were going to say that?”
    “It is not a trap, I assure you. A bargain in good faith. It just so happens I cannot tell you any more until you know me better.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I greatly fear you would not believe me.”
    “I don’t believe you anyway, so you might as well tell me now.”
    Embries laughed, and it seemed to James the old fellow had not laughed in a long, long time. “No, my friend,” he remarked, “that would not be bargaining in good faith.”
    “You’ve got to give me something to go on.”
    “Very well,” the old man conceded. “I will tell you this much: your affairs and mine are much more closely linked than you might imagine.”
    “Don’t tell me
you
have a claim on the estate, too.”
    “No.” Embries shook his head. “The estate is yours. Never doubt it.”
    “Thanks.”
    “All of it, I mean. The entire estate — not just the two hundred acres bequeathed to your father. Blair Morven belongs to you, James Stuart, to you alone. The castle and outbuildings, the timber plantation, all the houses and cottages, the farms, the loch, the church, the family treasures — art, silver, and furniture. Everything. It is all yours.”
    “In my dreams.”
    “In reality.”
    James regarded the old man beside him. What in God’s name, he wondered, was he doing sitting out on a windy hilltop in the dead of night talking nonsense with a half-crazy tramp?
    Fascinating as it all was, the game, whatever it might be, had worn James’ patience thin. He stood. “It’s been interesting. Fascinating,” he said contemptuously. “Thanks for the information. I’d love to stay and chat; I really would. But I’ve got chores in the morning, and — gosh, is that the time? — I must be going. Mind you don’t trip over your cape on the way home.”
    “Silence!” hissed the old man. The whole world recoiled at the intensity of the command. Even the beacon