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"You haven't told me why you fired the gun,"

she persisted.

Thus compelled, Malcolm had to explain that the motive lay in his anxiety lest his grandfather should over-exert himself, seeing he was subject to severe attacks of asthma.

"He could stop when he was tired," she objected. "Ay, gien his pride wad lat him," answered Malcolm, and turned away again, eager to draw his line.

"Have you a boat of your own?" asked the lady. "Ay; yon's her, doon on the shore yonner. Wad ye like a row? She's fine an' quaiet."

"Who? The boat?"

"The sea, my leddy." "Is your boat clean?"

"O' a'thing but fish. But na, it's no fit for sic a bonny goon as that. I winna lat ye gang the day, my leddy; but gien ye like to be here the morn's mornin', I s' be here at this same hoor, an' hae my boat as clean's a Sunday sark.”

"You think more of my gown than of myself," she returned.

"There's no fear o' yersel', my leddy. Ye're ower weel made to blaud (spoil). But wae's me

for the goon or (before) it had been an hoor i' the boat the day!-no to mention the fish comin' wallopin' ower the gunnel ane efter the ither. But 'deed I maun say good mornin', mem!"

"By all means. I don't want to keep you a moment from your precious fish."

Feeling rebuked, without well knowing why, Malcolm accepted the dismissal, and ran to his boat. By the time he had taken his oars, the girl had vanished.

His line was a short one; but twice the number of fish he wanted were already hanging from the hooks. It was still very early when he reached the harbour. At home he found his grandfather waiting for him, and his breakfast ready.

It was hard to convince Duncan that he had waked the royal burgh a whole hour too soon. He insisted that, as he had never made such a blunder before, he could not have made it now.

"It's ta watch 'at 'll pe telling ta lies, Malcolm, my poy," he said thoughtfully. "She was once pefore." "But the sun says the same 's the watch, daddy," persisted Malcolm.

Duncan understood the position of the sun and what it signified, as well as the clearest-eyed man in Port Lossie, but he could not afford to yield.

"It was peing some conspeeracy of ta cursit Cawmills, to make her loss her poor pension," he said. "Put never you mind, Malcolm; I'll pe making up for ta plunder ta morrow mornin'. Ta coot peoples shall haf teir sleeps a whole hour after tey ought to be at teir works."

CHAPTER IX.

THE SALMON-TROUT.

MALCOLM walked up through the town with his fish, hoping to part with some of the less desirable of them, and so lighten his basket, before entering the grounds of Lossie House. But he had met with little success, and was now approaching the towngate, as they called it, which closed a short street at right angles to the principal one, when he came upon Mrs. Catanach-on her knees, cleaning her doorstep.

"Weel, Ma'colm, what fish hae ye?" she said, without looking up.

"Hoo kent ye it was me, Mistress Catanach ?" asked the lad.

"Kent it was you!" she repeated. "Gien there be but twa feet at ance in ony street o' Portlossie, I'll tell ye whase heid's abune them, an' my een steekit (closed)."

"Hoot! ye're a witch, Mistress Catanach!" said Malcolm merrily.

"That's as may be," she returned, rising, and nod

ding mysteriously; "I hae tauld ye nae mair nor the trowth. But what garred ye whup's a' oot o' oor nakit beds by five o'clock i' the mornin,' this mornin', man? That's no what ye're paid for."

"'Deed, mem, it was jist a mistak' o' my puir daddy's. He had been feart o' sleepin' ower lang, ye see, an' sae had waukit ower sune. I was oot efter the fish, mysel'."

"But ye fired the gun 'gen the chap (before the stroke) o' five."

"Ow, ay! I fired the gun. The puir man wad hae bursten himsel' gien I hadna.”

"Deil gien he hed bursten himsel'-the auld heelan' sholt!" exclaimed Mrs. Catanach spitefully.

"Ye sanna even sic words to my gran'father, Mrs. Catanach," said Malcolm with rebuke.

She laughed a strange laugh.

"An'

"Sanna!" she repeated contemptuously. wha's your gran'father, that I sud tak tent (heed) hoo I wag my tongue ower his richtëousness?"

Then, with a sudden change of her tone to one of would-be friendliness

"But what'll ye be seekin' for that bit sawmon trooty, man?" she said.

As she spoke she approached his basket, and

VOL. I.

H

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