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Updated: May 26, 2025
"I dinna ken; maybe ay an' maybe no I wadna say. But I dinna want to hae onything to du wi' ye, mem." "Ma'colm MacPhail," said Mrs Catanach, lowering her voice to a hoarse whisper, while every trace of laughter vanished from her countenance, "ye hae had mair to du wi' me nor ye ken, an' aiblins ye'll hae mair yet nor ye can weel help. Sae caw canny, my man."
"Peter," said Malcolm, "ye was quite richt to gang, but I'm glaid they didna lat ye." "I wad ha'e been half w'y to Port Gordon or noo," said Peter. "But noo ye'll no gang to Port Gordon," said Malcolm. "Ye'll jist gang to the Salmon for a feow days, till we see hoo things gang." "I'll du onything ye like, Ma'colm," said Peter, and went into the house to fetch his bonnet.
At length six men in a body, and one lagging behind, appeared coming down the winding path, all but Peter no doubt wondering why they were called so soon from their beds on such a peaceful morning after being out the night before. Malcolm went to meet them. "Freen's," he said, "I'm in want o' yer help." "Onything ye like, Ma'colm, sae far 's I'm concernt, 'cep' it be to ride yer mere.
"Ye see, my lord gien it be sae I maun ca' ye, an' Ma'colm seems to ken we're like by oorsel's for the present, an' we're but a rouch set o' fowk for such like 's yer lordship to haud word o' mou' wi'; but gien it wad please ye to come ower the gait ony time i' the evenin', an' tak yer share o' what's gauin', ye sud be walcome, an' we wad coont it a great honour frae sic 's yer lordship."
It is the generous Spirit, who, when brought Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought Upon the plan that pleased his childish thought. There! that's what ye wad hae o' me, mem!" "Hear till him!" cried Miss Horn. "The man's i' the richt, though naebody never h'ard o' 'im. Haud ye by that, Ma'colm, an' dinna ye rist till ye ha'e biggit a harbour to the men an' women o' Scaurnose.
"There can be little doobt they hae gotten a grip o' 'm at last, puir fallow!" said Joseph. "But whatever 's come till him, we canna sit doon an' ait oor mait ohn kent hoo Phemy 's farin, puir wee lamb! Ye maun jist haud awa' ower to Kirkbyres, Ma'colm, an' get word o' yer mither, an' see gien onything can be made oot o' her." The proposal fell on Malcolm like a great billow.
"Haud yer tongue afore ye lee, man," interrupted his wife. "Ye ken weel eneuch ye wad du what Ma'colm MacPhail wad hae ye du, for ony factor in braid Scotlan'."
An' gien ye dinna chowse to lat on aboot it till an auld freen' cause she's naething but a fisherwife, it's dune ye mair skaith a'ready nor I thocht it wad to the lang last, Ma'colm for it 's yer ain name I s' ca' ye yet, gien ye war ten times a laird! didna I gie ye the breist whan ye cud du naething i' the wardle but sowk? An' weel ye sowkit, puir innocent 'at ye was!"
"Weel," he said, "I am glaid o' that, Ma'colm, I beg yer pardon, my lord, I sud say. Annie!" "Haud a quaiet sough, man. I wadna hae 't come oot at Scaurnose first. I'm come noo 'cause I want ye to stan' by me." "I wull that, my lord." "Weel, gang an' gether yer boat's crew, an' fess them doon to the cove, an' I'll tell them, an' maybe they'll stan' by me as weel."
One day, when Malcolm was seated, mending a net, among the thin grass and great red daisies of the links by the bank of the burn where it crossed the sands from the Lossie grounds to the sea, Lizzy came up to him and said, "The factor wad like to see ye, Ma'colm, as sune 's ye can gang till 'im." She waited no reply. Malcolm rose and went. At the factor's the door was opened by Mrs.
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