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Updated: June 17, 2025
Dennis and I always shared his watches, and they were generally devoted to the discussing and re-discussing of our prospects, interspersed with fragmentary French lessons. From the day that Alister had heard Dennis chatter to the squaw, through all our ups and downs, at sea and ashore, he had never flagged in his persistent profiting by Dennis's offer to teach him to speak French.
"Though I wouldn't wonder if the widow herself had a touch of stiff-neckedness in her," he added. However that might be, Alister held with his mother, of course, and he said little enough about his paternal relations, except one, whom he described as "a guid man, and verra canny, but hard on the failings of the young."
"So I have the people I love, I think I could part with all things else, even the land!" said Alister.
Had she known the manners of the country, she would have added "laird," or "Macruadh." "Yes I do," Alister answered; "but I should plough all the same if I did not. It has to be done." "But why should YOU do it?" "Because I must," laughed the laird. What ought she to answer? Should she condole with the man because he had to work? It did not seem prudent! She would try another tack!
I remember once, years ago, coming upon a litter of lion cubs, in a cave, when I was out in Africa " "Yes! Yes!" I cried eagerly. "And that is what I smelt this morning. Those dogs smelt it, too. They felt that there was something alien, abnormal in their midst." "That something being Sir Alister Moeran?" I felt myself flush up under his gaze. I got up and walked about the room.
By one impulse, Alister and I sprang to our feet and gripped each other by the hand; and I do not believe there were any two sailors on board who sped the parting pilot with more noise than we two made in the cook's galley. It was gloriously true. They had kept us both.
Sercombe answered with a scornful imprecation. "I warn you again, I am no novice in this business!" said Ian. Sercombe struck out, but did not reach his antagonist. The fight lasted but a moment longer. As his adversary drew back from a failed blow, Alister saw Ian's eyes flash, and his left arm shoot out, as it seemed, to twice its length.
Alister proceeded to take their bedding from before the fire, and prepare for the night. While they were thus busied, Ian, with his face to the wall, in the dim light of the candle by which he was making his first rough sketches, began the story of his flight from Russia.
Ian, the light of his mother's eyes, was gone, and she felt forsaken. Alister was too much occupied with Mercy to feel his departure as on former occasions, yet he missed him every hour of the day. Mercy and he met, but not for some time in open company, as Christina refused to go near the cottage. Things were ripening to a change.
The same instant there was a little noise like a sob. Mercy started, and when she looked again Alister had vanished as noiselessly as he came. For a moment she sat afraid to move. A wind came blowing upon her from the window: some one had opened her door! What if it were her father! She compelled herself to turn her head. It was something white! it was Christina!
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