"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 bland
(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' walopin' 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.