"
"It wad be ill to du, my lord, ohn set it up again. But jist think
what a gran' place it wad be to bide in!"
The marquis burst out laughing.
"A grand place for gulls and kittiwakes and sea crows!" he said. "But
where is it, pray, that a fisherman like you gets such extravagant
notions?--How do you come to think of such things?"
"Thoucht's free, my lord. Gien a thing be guid to think, what for
sudna a fisher lad think it? I hae read a heap aboot auld castles
an' sic like i' the history o' Scotlan', an' there's mony an auld
tale an' ballant aboot them.--Jist luik there, my leddy: ye see
yon awfu' hole i' the wa,' wi' the verra inside o' the hill, like,
rushin' oot at it?--I cud tell ye a fearfu' tale aboot that same."
"Do let us have it," said Florimel eagerly, setting herself to
listen.
"Better wait till we land," said the marquis lazily.
"Ay, my lord; we're ower near the shore to begin a story.--Slack
the mainsheet, Peter, an' stan' by the jib--doonhaul--Dinna
rise, my leddy; she'll be o' the grun' in anither meenute."
Almost immediately followed a slight grating noise, which grew
loud, and before one could say her speed had slackened, the cutter
rested on the pebbles, with the small waves of the just turned tide
flowing against her quarter. Malcolm was overboard in a moment.
"How the deuce are we to land here?" said the marquis.
"Yes!" followed Florimel, half risen on her elbow, "how the deuce
are we to land here?"
"Hoot, my leddy!" said Malcolm, "sic words ill become yer bonny
mou'.
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