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He told us of his sailing days in the privateer Spray in the Indies, and of his meeting with Angus McKinnon, but of these things I will not be writing at any length in this story. The father and son left me a good way on the home road, and I made my way indoors with no noise, and there was not so much as a dog barking, and when I was in my own place I sat thinking for a long time.
"It would just be that lass that told us about the Preventives lying in the cove near the Snib, and she was sore feart a lad Ronny McKinnon would be transported." "And would she be saying just that," says Ronny. "She would just," says I. "It's no like her temper at a', but I'll be thanking her for that kind thought," says he, and commenced to his whistling o' pipers' tunes. Cormorants. Boghay.
"Out, man, out," I cried at him; "there's nae time for sorrow," and there came the clop-clop of a galloping horse on the frozen road, and Ronny McKinnon flung himself among us. "The back door, damnation, the back door," he cried, and pushed Dan before him. "Will ye wait till that wasp's bink is buzzin' aboot yer lugs?"
"If a man runnin' like that Gilchrist can blurt oot the news and keep runnin', it's maistly truth, but if he stops and begins to walk, and twist his mouth before he speaks, he's makin' lies," said McKinnon, and turned himself in the water. The searchers were beginning to tire of beating. "Roast the devil oot." "Ay, gie McBride a taste o' the fire."
"Lay aloft, ye bitch," he roared in exasperation, "lay aloft, damn ye," and at that great sea voice Flora made off and left them, and I am not wondering at it, for surely never was a dog so ordered; but Robin McKinnon was telling me that when he was at the ploughing and McGilp walking with him step for step, the smuggler would be crying to the horses, and them turning in at the head-rig
Many's the house she has saved with that same Hielan' pony, for Gilchrist, a game lad among gangers, canna keep anything from Mirren, and here she is among the heather wi' word o' treachery, and d'ye ken who she will be doing it for?" "No," said I, "except this McKinnon ye spoke of."
Maist sailor-men have the notion o' a farm," says he, "when they will be at sea. I am thinking it will come to that wi' me too, when my father is old and my mother." "Where is your place?" said I. "Are you from these parts?" for there was a look about him I kent, and yet could not be naming it. "Ronald McKinnon is my father," said he.
Weel, weel, that finished the lady, poor body. Ye'll see how things are now, Mr Hamish," says he. "Yon's an heiress. An' that's a' I'll be saying," says he, for McKinnon came in from his stable, "but the Laird, your uncle, was in the ploy," says he, "or I'm sair mistaken, and the Mistress too."
When we had made an end of the eating I gave McKinnon the story of the stranger that came whistling at uncanny hours, and asked him where I would be like to find McGilp, for it appeared the man wanted speech with me.
I was wondering to myself this morning what I'd do with that big brown horse of mine. He'll not go hunting again, he never got the better of that hurt he got. But he's the very cut of a farm-horse. You see, the poor devil had to carry me!" ended the Big Doctor, with a laugh at himself. "I'll tell McKinnon of him.
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