“Ye garred me loup, my leddy!” he returned with a smile and an obeisance. “You told me,” the girl went on emphatically, and as she spoke she disengaged her watch from her girdle, “that you fired it at six o’clock. It is not nearly six.” “Didna ye hear the pipes, my leddy?” he rejoined. “Yes, well enough; but a whole regiment of pipes can’t make it six o’clock when my watch says ten minutes past five.” “Eh, sic a braw watch!” exclaimed Malcolm. “What’s a’ thae bonny white k-nots aboot the face o’ ’t?” “Pearls,” she answered, in a tone that implied pity of his ignorance. “Jist look at it aside mine!” he exclaimed in admiration, pulling out his great old turnip. “There!” cried the girl; “your own watch says only a quarter past five.” “Ow, ay! my leddy; I set it by the toon clock ’at hings i’ the window o’ the Lossie Airms last nicht. But I maun awa’ an’ luik efter my lines, or atween the deil an’ the dogfish my lord’ll fare ill.” “You haven’t told me why you fired the gun,” she persisted. Thus compelled, Malcolm had to explain that the motive lay in his anxiety lest his grandfather should over-exert himself, seeing he was subject to severe attacks of asthma. “He could stop when he was tired,” she objected. “Ay, gien his pride wad lat him,” answered Malcolm, and turned away again, eager to draw his line. “Have you a boat of your own?” asked the lady. “Ay; yon’s her, doon on the shore yonner. Wad ye like a row? She’s fine an’ quaiet.” “Who? The boat?” “The sea, my leddy.” “Is your boat clean?” “O’ a’ thing but fish. But na, it’s no fit for sic a bonny goon as that. I winna lat ye gang the day, my leddy; but gien ye like to be here the morn’s mornin’, I s’ be here at this same hoor, an’ hae my boat as clean ’s a Sunday sark.” “You think more of my gown than of myself,” she returned. “There’s no fear o’ yersel’, my leddy. Ye’re ower weel made to blaud (_spoil_). But wae’s me for the goon or (_before_) it had been an hoor i’ the boat the day!--no to mention the fish comin’ walopin’ ower the gunnel ane efter the ither. But ’deed I _maun_ say good mornin’, mem!” “By all means. I don’t want to keep you a moment from your precious fish.” Feeling rebuked, without well knowing why, Malcolm accepted the dismissal, and ran to his boat. By the time he had taken his oars, the girl had vanished. His line was a short one; but twice the number of fish he wanted were already hanging from the hooks. It was still very early when he reached the harbour. At home he found his grandfather waiting for him, and his breakfast ready. It was hard to convince Duncan that he had waked the royal burgh a whole hour too soon. He insisted that, as he had never made such a blunder before, he could not have made it now. “It’s ta watch ’at’ll pe telling ta lies, Malcolm, my poy,” he said thoughtfully. “She was once pefore.” “But the sun says the same ’s the watch, daddy,” persisted Malcolm.