"Weel, gang an' gether yer boat's crew, an' fess them doon to the cove, an' I'll tell them, an' maybe they'll stan' by me as weel." "There's little fear o' that, gien I ken my men," answered Peter, and went off, rather less than half clothed, the sun burning hot upon his back, through the sleeping village to call them, while Malcolm went and waited beside the dinghy. At length six men in a body, and one lagging behind, appeared coming down the winding path, all but Peter no doubt wondering why they were called so soon from their beds on such a peaceful morning after being out the night before. Malcolm went to meet them. "Freen's," he said, "I'm in want o' yer help." "Onything ye like, Ma'colm, sae far 's I'm concernt, 'cep' it be to ride yer mere. That I wull no tak in han'," said Jeames Gentle. "It's no that," returned Malcolm. "It's naething freely sae hard 's that, I'm thinkin'. The hard 'ill be to believe what I'm gaein' to tell ye." "Ye'll no be gaein' to set up for a proaphet?" said Girnel, with something approaching a sneer. Girnel was the one who came down behind the rest. "Na, na--naething like it," said Blue Peter. "But first ye'll promise to hand yer tongues for half a day?" said Malcolm. "Ay, ay, we'll no clype." "We s' haud wer tongues!" cried one and another and another, and all seemed to assent. "Weel," said Malcolm, "my name 's no Ma'colm MacPhail, but--" "We a' ken that," said Girnel. "An' what mair du ye ken?" asked Blue Peter, with some anger at his interruption. "Ow, naething." "Weel, ye ken little," said Peter; and the rest laughed. "I'm the markis o' Lossie," said Malcolm. Every man but Peter laughed again: all took it for a joke precursive of some serious announcement. That which it would have least surprised them to hear would have been that he was a natural son of the late marquis. "My name 's Ma'colm Colonsay," resumed Malcolm quietly, "an' I'm the saxt markis o' Lossie." A dead silence followed, and in doubt, astonishment, bewilderment and vague awe, accompanied in the case of two or three by a strong inclination to laugh, with which they struggled, belief began. Always a curious observer of humanity, Malcolm calmly watched them. From discord of expression, most of their faces had grown idiotic. But after a few moments of stupefaction, first one, then another, turned his eyes upon Blue Peter, and perceiving that the matter was to him not only serious, but evidently no news, each began to come to his senses, the chaos within him slowly arranged itself, and his face gradually settled into an expression of sanity--the foolishness disappearing, while the wonder and pleasure remained. "Ye maunna tak it ill, my lord," said Peter, "gien the laads be ta'en aback wi' the news. It's a some suddent shift o' the win', ye see, my lord." "I wuss yer lordship weel," thereupon said one, and held out his hand. "Lang life to yer lordship!" said another.