"What a groan!" cried Steve boisterously. "Here, come out, you lazy old rascal; we're just going on a bit of a trip. Where are you? Oh, I say, you do like playing dormouse." "Oh, dinna tooch her, sir; she's froze all through, and she'll preak." "Nonsense! Let's have a look at you, Watty!" cried Steve jovially, though his heart ached as he spoke and thought of how the doctor had said that unless the men's spirits were kept up they would droop and die. As he spoke he half dragged the lad, blankets, and all into the light. "Why, you're not half frozen yet." "Hey, put she dinna ken. She's a' ane muckle chilplain." "Then come out, and have a run through the snow." "Nay, she'll never rin acain." "Yes, you will. I want you, Watty. Come along." "Nay, she dinna like her, an' she never tid. She's ferry pad." "Did the doctor say so?" "No," growled Andrew; "she said it wass nothing the matter with the callant, and she ought to ket oop and rin apoot." "Eh?" cried Watty, rising up so quickly that he knocked his head against the bottom of the next bunk. "The doctor said Andra wass petter as I am, Meester Stevey, an' she should pe apoot her wairk. She's ferry well inteet." "A lee!" cried Andrew fiercely. "The doctor dinna ken how sair she be. She's ferry pad, and she's coing to dee." "So we all are, some day, Andra. Come, man, get up, and you, too, Watty." "Na, na--na, na," came with quite a duet of groans. "Oh, I say!" cried Steve. "I know I feel quite as bad and low-spirited as you both do. Come, Watty laddie, it's horribly dull without you. Get up." "She dinna want her, sir, she dinna want her." "But I do, Watty, 'pon my word. You and I are the only two boys in the ship, and I miss you. Get up, and you and I'll stick together all day, and have a good run with Skeny." "Do she mean she to want her ferry padly?" "Yes, of course." "Then she'll ket oop," said the lad with a groan. "And you, too, Andra. Get up, and come with us; it will do you good." "Neffer no more, neffer no more," groaned the man. "Nonsense! It's too bad of you!" cried Steve. "The ship's as dull as dull now, and you might make it so different." Andrew groaned, but he pulled the blanket away from his left ear, and Steve noticed it as he went on. "One never hears you making a joke about Hamish." "Ah, she tid mak' chokes apoot Hahmeesh." "And just when we want the place to be made cheerful with a bit of music, you go and put away the pipes and pretend they're frozen." Andrew groaned again, but it was a much shorter groan. "When it was light we could hear the pipes going. Ha! what were those tunes you played--Strathclydes?" "Na, na, Strathspeys, laddie; but if she tuked a holt o' the pipes the noo it wad pe a coronach she'd blaw." "Very well; I'd rather hear that than nothing. That was a good tune, `Maggie Lauder.'" "Oh ay, she wass a ferry coot chune," sighed Andrew. "And that jolly jig, `Money Rusk.'"