“‘Hurry’ is the deil’s ain word, and I’ll hurry for naebody; forbye, I wadna lift an oar for man nor bairn on the Sawbath day.”
“Dost thou think it is ‘The Lapwing?’”
“It may be: I’ll no say it isn’t.”
The child had unfastened the boat while he was talking; he leaped into it, and lifted an oar. “Then I must scull, John. Thou might go with me!”
“I’m no gaun to break the Sawbath, an’ a water way is waur than a land way, for then you’ll be atween the deil an’ the deep sea. Bide at hame, Jan, an’ ye’ll be a wise lad.”
Jan shook his head, and went away by himself. The bay was smooth as glass, and he paddled with marvelous ease and speed. Very soon he came alongside the yacht: the sailors were holystoning the deck, but there was not a face looked over the side that little Jan knew.
“Well, then, is this ‘The Lapwing?’” he asked.
“That’s her name; what’s your name, you little monkey?”
“Jan Vedder. Throw me a rope.”