"
The marquis laughed.
"I ask you how we are to get ashore?" said Florimel with grave
dignity, though an imp was laughing in the shadows of her eyes.
"I'll sune lat ye see that, my leddy," answered Malcolm; and
leaning over the low bulwark he had her in his arms almost before
she could utter an objection. Carrying her ashore like a child--
indeed, to steady herself, she had put an arm round his shoulders
--he set her down on the shingle, and turning in the act, left her
as if she had been a burden of nets, and waded back to the boat.
"And how, pray, am I to go?" asked the marquis. "Do you fancy you
can carry me in that style?"
"Ow na, my lord! that wadna be dignifeed for a man. Jist loup upo'
my back."
As he spoke he turned his broad shoulders, stooping.
The marquis accepted the invitation, and rode ashore like a schoolboy,
laughing merrily.
They were in a little valley, open only to the sea, one boundary of
which was the small promontory whereon the castle stood. The side
of it next them, of stone and live rock combined, rose perpendicular
from the beach to a great height; whence, to gain the summit, they
had to go a little way back, and ascend by a winding path till they
reached the approach to the castle from the landward side.
"Noo, wad na this be a gran' place to bide at, my lord?" said
Malcolm, as they reached the summit--the marquis breathless,
Florimel fresh as a lark. "Jist see sic an outluik! The verra place
for pirates like the auld Danes! Naething cud escape the sicht o'
them here.
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