But Malcolm was silent for a few moments.

"I was thinkin', Peter," he said at last, "whether I cud bide to
hear you say my lord to me. Dootless, as it 'll ha'e to come to
that, it wad be better to grow used till 't while we're thegither,
sae 'at whan it maun be, it mayna ha'e the luik o' cheenge until
it, for cheenge is jist the thing I canna bide. I' the meantime,
hooever, we canna gi'e in till 't, 'cause it wad set fowk jaloosin'.
But I wad be obleeged till ye, Peter, gien you wad say my lord
whiles, whan we're oor lanes, for I wad fain grow sae used till't
'at I never kent ye said it, for 'atween you an' me I dinna like
it. An' noo I s' tell ye a' 'at I ken."

When he had ended the tale of what had come to his knowledge, and
how it had come, and paused:

"Gie's a grup o' yer han', my lord," said Blue Peter, "an' may
God haud ye lang in life an' honour to reule ower us. Noo, gien ye
please, what are ye gauin' to du?"

"Tell ye me, Peter, what ye think I oucht to du."

"That wad tak a heap o' thinkin'," returned the fisherman; "but
ae thing seems aboot plain: ye ha'e no richt to lat yer sister
gang exposed to temptations ye cud haud frae her. That's no, as
ye promised, to be kin' till her. I canna believe that's hoo yer
father expeckit o' ye. I ken weel 'at fowk in his poseetion ha'ena
the preevileeges o' the like o' hiz--they ha'ena the win, an' the
watter, an' whiles a lee shore to gar them know they are but men,