The worst of it was, that he had already, as Malcolm
knew from the direction of the sound, almost reached the end of
his beat, and must even now be expecting the report of the swivel,
until he heard which he would not cease playing, so long as there
was a breath in his body. Pulling, therefore, with all his might,
Malcolm soon ran his boat ashore, and in another instant the sharp
yell of the swivel rang among the rocks of the promontory. He was
still standing, lapped in a light reverie as he watched the smoke
flying seaward, when a voice, already well known to him said,
close at his side:
"What are you about with that horrid cannon?"
Malcolm started.
"Ye garred me loup, my leddy!" he returned with a smile and an
obeisance.
"You told me," the girl went on emphatically, and as she spoke she
disengaged her watch from her girdle, "that you fired it at six
o'clock. It is not nearly six."
"Didna ye hear the pipes, my leddy?" he rejoined.
"Yes, well enough; but a whole regiment of pipes can't make it six
o'clock when my watch says ten minutes past five."
"Eh, sic a braw watch!" exclaimed Malcolm. "What's a' thae bonny
white k-nots about the face o' 't?"
"Pearls," she answered, in a tone that implied pity of his ignorance.
"Jist look at it aside mine!" he exclaimed in admiration, pulling
out his great old turnip.
"There!" cried the girl; "your own watch says only a quarter past
five."
"Ow, ay! my leddy; I set it by the toon clock 'at hings i' the window
o' the Lossie Airms last nicht.
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