"The Gillie Ciotach is an excellent one for lies, and that is certain!" said he. "His dog? And how could his dog swim across from Lochgarra to Eilean Heimra? Tell Gillie Ciotach from me that when he comes over here he may look after the lobsters, but he will be better not to tell lies about a dog, and also he will do well to leave the Lochgarra grouse alone. And now, Martha, if there is any dinner for me, let me have it at once; for I am going back to the yacht by-and-bye." He went into the simply-furnished dining-room, where there was a lamp on the table and likewise a magnificent peat-fire ablaze in the big iron grate—a welcome change from the little stove in the cabin of the _Sirène_. He had brought his letters with him in his hand. He drew in a wickerwork lounging-chair towards the fireplace, and idly began to tear the envelopes open: here were tidings, various hushed voices, as it were, from the busy world that seemed so distant to him, living in these remote solitudes. It is true he had been away for a time from Eilean Heimra; but during that interval there had not been much of human companionship for him; nay, there was for the most part a greater loneliness than ever, especially when he took his watch on deck at night, sending the two men below for much-needed rest. Indeed these letters and newspapers seemed almost to make a stir and noise!—so used had he been to silence and the abstraction of his own thoughts. Meanwhile Coinneach and Calum had returned to the yacht, had got some supper, and were now up at the bow, contemplatively smoking, and chatting to each other in their native tongue. Night had fallen; but the skies were becoming clearer and more clear; the starlit heavens were gradually revealing themselves. There was not a sound—since the rattle of the anchor had disturbed the quietude of the little bay. "The work is not over yet," Coinneach was saying, in somewhat low tones, "and it is the part of the work that I have no liking for. Anything else I shrink not back from, when the master wishes; he is the one to follow, and I will go with him wherever he desires; and that in safety, too—for who knows the navigation like himself, yes, and speaking every language that is known upon the earth? I will go with him wherever he wishes; I will do whatever he wishes. But, Calum, I have no liking for the Uamh coilich na glaodhaich."[#] [#] _Uamh coilich na glaodhaich_—The Cave of the Crowing Cock. "Nor I, Coinneach," said his companion. "Especially in the night-time."