Part 24 (1/2)

”Muzzer says she is _sure_ Jesus will save you; so I came to tell you, for muzzer _never_ says what's not true.”

Having delivered her consoling message, Flo ran back at once to Molly's cottage with the cheerful remark that it was all right now, for she had told Ivor that he was going to be saved!

While Mrs Gordon and Flo were thus engaged on sh.o.r.e, 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. The gulls that floated on the white expanse seemed each to be resting on its own inverted image, and the boat would have appeared in similar aspect but for the s.h.i.+vering of the mirror by its oars.

”Most appropriate type of Sabbath rest,” said Jackman.

”Ay, but like all things here pelow,” remarked Ian Anderson, who possessed in a high degree the faculty of disputation, ”it's not likely to last long.”

”What makes you think so, Ian?” asked Milly, who sat in the stern of the boat between John Barret and Aggy Anderson.

”Well, you see, muss,” began Ian, in his slow, nasal tone, ”the gless has bin fallin' for some time past, an'--Tonal', poy, mind your helm; see where you're steerin' to!”

Donald, who steered, was watching with profound interest the operations of Junkie, who had slily and gravely fastened a piece of twine to a back b.u.t.ton of MacRummle's coat, and tied him to the thwart on which he sat.

Being thus sternly asked where he was steering to, Donald replied, ”Oo, ay,” and quickly corrected the course.

”But surely,” returned Milly, ”there is no sign of a rapid change, at least if we may judge from the aspect of Nature; and I am a fervent believer in Nature, whatever the gla.s.s may predict.”

”I am not sure o' that, muss,” said Ian. ”You needn't pull quite so hard, Muster Mabberly; we hev plenty o' time. Tak it easy. Well, as I wa.s.s sayin', muss, I hev seen it as calm as this i' the mornin' mony a time, an' plowin' a gale at nicht.”

”Let us hope that that won't be our experience to-day,” said the laird.

”Anyhow, we have a good sea-boat under us.”

”Weel, the poat's no' a pad wan, laird, but I hev seen petter. You see, when the wund iss richt astern, she iss given to trinkin'.”

”That's like Ivor,” said Junkie with a laugh; ”only _he_ is given to drinkin', no matter how the wind blows.”

”What do you mean?” asked Milly, much perplexed.

Barret here explained that a boat which takes in much water over the bow is said to be given to drinking.

”I'm inclined that way myself,” said Jackman, who had been pulling hard at one of the oars up to that time.

”Has any one thought of bringing a bottle of water?”

”Here's a bottle,” cried MacRummle, laughing.

”Ah, sure, an' there seems to be a bottle o' milk, or somethin' white under the th'ort,” remarked Quin, who pulled the bow oar.

”But that's Milly's bottle of milk,” shouted Junkie.

”And Aggy's,” chimed in Eddie.

”Yes--no one must touch that,” said Junkie.

”Quite right, boys,” said Jackman; ”besides, milk is not good for quenching thirst.”