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"It's up at the knowl I've peen, Martha, an' I left Samyool Ruvnshaw there in a fery pad temper fery pad inteed. He'll come oot of it, whatever." "An' he'll not be for sellin' you the knowl?" asked Martha. "No, he won't," replied Angus.
"Ah, thanks, thanks," cried Mr Ravenshaw heartily, as he drove past; "bad news that about the plain-hunters. I suppose you've heard it." "Ay, it iss pad news ferry pad news inteed, Mister Ruvnshaw. It will pe goin' to the fort ye are?" "Yes; the poor people will need all the help we can give them." "They wull that; oo ay."
Failing to find a just comparison, he tailed off in expressive but untranslatable Gaelic. "Goot tay to you, Muster Ruvnshaw," said Angus, on reaching the summit of the knoll. "It wass fery goot of you, whatever, to let my hoose stand here." "Don't mention it, Angus," said the old gentleman, removing his pipe with one hand, and extending the other.
I hope, however, that the water won't rise much higher." "The watter will rise higher, Muster Ruvnshaw," returned Angus, with the decision of an oracle; "an' it will pe goot for us if it will leave our houses standin' where they are. Peegwish will be tellin' me that; an' Peegwish knows what he iss apout when he is not trunk, whatever." Peegwish did indeed know what he was about.
"No, Angus Macdonald," said the trader sternly, "I'll not sell it. I've told you already more than once, and it is worse than ill-judged, it is impertinent of you to come bothering me to part with my land." "Ho! inteed!" exclaimed Angus, rising in wrath, and cramming his pipe into his vest pocket; "it is herself that will pe pothering you no more spout your dirty land, Samyool Ruvnshaw."
At that moment Angus Macdonald appeared upon the scene. His look of amazement at beholding his son may be imagined. Angus was not, however, demonstrative. He only stepped across the fire, and gave Ian a crushing squeeze of the hand. "It iss fery glad to see you I am, my poy, but it is taken py surprise I am, whatever. An' ho!" Well, it iss a happy father you will pe this night, Mr Ruvnshaw.
"It iss not the danger, you see, Muster Ruvnshaw, that troubles me; it iss the watter. There are some things, as the leddies fery well know, will pe quite destroyed py watter, an' it is puttin' them out of harm's way that I will pe after." "Put whatever you like in the barn, Macdonald," said Mr Ravenshaw promptly; "Elsie and I have had it and the other outhouses prepared. You are heartily welcome.
"And now, Muster Ruvnshaw, I came here to say a word for my poy. You know it iss natural that Ian will pe getting anxious apout the wedding. It iss impatient he will pe, whatever. He is a little shy to speak to you himself, and he will pe botherin' me to " "All right, Angus, I understand," interrupted Mr Ravenshaw. "You know both he and Lambert are busy removing your barn from my lawn.
It stood so deep in the water that only the upper windows were visible. The chimneys and roofs of some of the outhouses formed, with the main building and a few tree-tops, a small Archipelago. "You are fery kind, Mr Ruvnshaw," said Angus from an upper window, beneath which the canoe floated.
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