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Updated: May 21, 2025
"Very well, Donald. Have you had breakfast?" "Oo, ay." "Go into the kitchen, then, and they will give you some more." "Thenkee, sir." "I find," said the laird on returning to his friends, "that we are to have no service to-day in our little church, as our minister has to take the duty at Drumquaich, on the other side of the loch.
So those of you who are bent on going to church must make up your minds to cross the loch in the boat." "Is Drumquaich the little village close under the pine wood, that we see on doubling Eagle Point?" asked Mabberly. "The same. The little church there, like our own, is not supplied regularly. Sometimes a Divinity student is sent down to them. Occasionally they have a great gun from Edinburgh."
One beautiful Sunday morning while the party assembled in Kinlossie House was at breakfast, a message was brought to the laird that he "wass wantit to speak wi' the poy Tonal'." "Well, Donald, my lad, what want ye with me this fine morning?" asked the laird, on going out to the hall. "I wass telt to tell ye the'll be no kirk the day, for the minister's got to preach at Drumquaich."
"By all means; as many as the boat will hold," returned the laird. It was finally arranged that, besides those already mentioned, Mabberly, Jackman, MacRummle, Quin, the three boys, Roderick the groom, and Ian Anderson, as boatman in charge, should cross over to the little church at Drumquaich, about eight miles distant by water.
While Mrs Gordon and Flo were thus engaged on shore, the boat party were rowing swiftly down the loch to the little hamlet of Drumquaich. The weather was magnificent. Not a breath of air stirred the surface of the sea, so that every little white cloud in the sky was perfectly reproduced in the concave below.
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