Once afloat, there was very little to be done to her, for she had
been laid up in perfect condition, and as soon as Mrs Mair appeared
with her basket, and they had put that, a keg of water, some
fishing lines, and a pan of mussels for bait, on board, they were
ready to sail, and wished their friends a light goodbye, leaving
them to imagine they were gone but for a day or two, probably on
some business of Mr Crathie's.

With the wind from the northwest, they soon reached Duff Harbour,
where Malcolm went on shore and saw Mr Soutar. He, with a landsman's
prejudice, made strenuous objections to such a mad prank as sailing
to London at that time of the year, but in vain. Malcolm saw nothing
mad in it, and the lawyer had to admit he ought to know best. He
brought on board with him a lad of Peter's acquaintance, and now
fully manned, they set sail again, and by the time the sun appeared
were not far from Peterhead.

Malcolm's spirits kept rising as they bowled along over the bright
cold waters. He never felt so capable as when at sea. His energies
had been first called out in combat with the elements, and hence
he always felt strongest, most at home, and surest of himself on
the water. Young as he was, however, such had been his training
under Mr Graham, that a large part of this elevation of spirit was
owing to an unreasoned sense of being there more immediately in the
hands of God. Later in life, he interpreted the mental condition
thus--that of course he was always and in every place equally in
God's hands, but that at sea he felt the truth more keenly. Where
a man has nothing firm under him, where his life depends on winds
invisible and waters unstable, where a single movement may be death,
he learns to feel what is at the same time just as true every night