captain and my father were talking together. It had a long steel
barrel with delicate engraving upon it, and a carved stock. I was
admiring the spring of the trigger work when Captain Gordon asked
me if I was a good shot.

"I have never fired a gun in my life," I said.

To my surprise he said, "You may have that gun in your hand if
you'll accept it."

"O, but I canna think of taking it from you, captain!" I replied.

"No, no, he'll shoot himself," objected my father; "and that will
not be so good as if he fell ower the cliffs. What will the lad
want wi' a gun?"

"But I'd like to give it him, pilot. He'll soon learn how to use it
properly.

"Won't you, Halcro?

"And as for shooting himself, why, remember the magic stone,
pilot."

Father muttered something to the effect that it was very good of
the captain; and I, who was overwhelmed with gratitude for his
kindness, feebly added my thanks. So Captain Gordon gave me the
fowling piece, together with a canister of gunpowder, and
sufficient swan shot, I thought, to kill all the wild fowl in
Orkney.