"Am I? Well then be off. But you mind, Miss Maddy, I won't have it. You'll be silly enough to marry some day, but when you do, you shall marry a man, not a feather-headed young ass, with no more brains than that bass. Ah, I've got you this time, have I?" He had thrown in again, and this time struck and hooked a large fish, whose struggles he watched with grim satisfaction, till he drew it gasping and quivering on to the rock--a fine bass, whose silver sides glistened like those of a salmon, and whose sharp back fin stood up ready to cut the unwitting hand. "Bad for him, Louie," said the old man with a laugh; "but one must have dinners, eh? What a countenance!" he continued, holding up his fish, "puts me in mind of that fellow you have up at the house, what's his name, Priddle, Fiddle?" "Pradelle, uncle." "Ah, Pradelle. Of course he's going back too." "Yes, uncle." "Don't like him," continued Uncle Luke, rebaiting quickly and throwing out; "that fellow has got scoundrel written in his face." "For shame! Mr Vine," said Madelaine, laughing. "Mr Pradelle is very gentlemanly and pleasant." "Good-looking scoundrels always are, my dear. But he don't want you. I watched him. Going to throw over the Scotchman and take to Miss Louie?" "Uncle, you've got a bite," said the girl coolly. "Eh? So I have. Got him, too," said the old man, striking and playing his fish just as if he were angling in fresh water. "Thumper." "What pleasure can it give you to say such unpleasant things, uncle?" continued the girl. "Truths always are unpleasant," said the old man, laughing. "Don't bother me, there's a shoal off the point now, and I shall get some fish." "Why you have all you want now, uncle." "Rubbish! Shall get a few shillings' worth to sell Mother Perrow." "Poor Uncle Luke!" said the girl with mock solemnity; "obliged to fish for his living." "Better than idling and doing nothing. I like to do it, and--There he is again. Don't talk." He hooked and landed another fine bass from the shoal which had come up with the tide that ran like a millstream off the point, when as he placed the fish in the basket he raised his eyes. "Yah! Go back and look after your men. I thought that would be it. Maddy, look at her cheeks." "Oh, uncle, if I did not know you to be the best and dearest of--" "Tchah! Carney!" he cried, screwing up his face. "Look here, I want to catch a few fish and make a little money, so if that long Scot is coming courting, take him somewhere else. Be off!" "If Mr Duncan Leslie is coming to say good-day, uncle, I see no reason why he should not say it here," said Louise, calmly enough now, and with the slight flush which had suffused her cheeks fading out.