the lave. But gien I dinna du weel, it winna be the fau't o' ane
or the ither o' you twa freen's. Noo, Peter, we maun be aff."

"No the nicht, surely?" said Mrs Mair, a little taken by surprise.

"The suner the better, lass," replied her husband. "An' we cudna
ha'e a better win'. Jist rin ye hame, an' get some vicktooals
thegither, an' come efter hiz to Portlossie."

"But hoo 'ill ye get the boat to the watter ohn mair han's? I'll
need to come mysel' an' fess Jean."

"Na, na; let Jean sit. There's plenty i' the Seaton to help. We're
gauin' to tak' the markis's cutter. She's a heap easier to lainch,
an' she'll sail a heap fester."

"But what'll Maister Crathie say?"

"We maun tak' oor chance o' that," answered her husband, with a
smile of confidence; and thereupon he and Malcolm set out for the
Seaton, while Mrs Mair went home to get ready some provisions for
the voyage, consisting chiefly of oatcakes.

The prejudice against Malcolm from his imagined behaviour to Lizzy
Findlay, had by this time, partly through the assurances of Peter,
partly through the power of the youth's innocent presence, almost
died out, and when the two men reached the Seaton, they found plenty
of hands ready to help them to reach the little sloop. Malcolm said
he was going to take her to Peterhead, and they asked no questions
but such as he contrived to answer with truth, or to leave unanswered.