"Whaur's yer stockin's, mem?" he said.
"You gave me no time to bring them away, you caught me up so--
rudely," answered the girl half querulously, but in such lovely
speech as had never before greeted his Scotish ears.
Before the words were well beyond her lips he was already on his way
back to the rock, running, as he walked, with great, heavy footed
strides. The abandoned shoes and stockings were in imminent danger
of being floated off by the rising water, but he dashed in, swam a
few strokes, caught them up, waded back to the shore, and, leaving
a wet track all the way behind him but carrying the rescued clothing
at arm's length before him, rejoined their owner. Spreading his
frock out before her, he laid the shoes and stockings upon it,
and, observing that she continued to keep her feet hidden under
the skirts of her dress, turned his back and stood.
"Why don't you go away?" said the girl, venturing one set of toes
from under their tent, but hesitating to proceed further in the
business.
Without word or turn of head he walked away.
Either flattered by his absolute obedience, and persuaded that he
was a true squire, or unwilling to forego what amusement she might
gain from him, she drew in her half issuing foot, and, certainly
urged in part by an inherent disposition to tease, spoke again.
"You're not going away without thanking me?" she said.
"What for, mem?" he returned simply, standing stock still again
with his back towards her.
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