“Because there are sunken rocks everywhere around,” she replied. “I couldn’t get here myself unless I knew the way. Now, then, get ready.”
One by one, a flask of coffee, two packets of sandwiches, a small box of nails and some string reached him, and last of all a small revolver, fully charged.
“Got everything?” she asked.
“Rather!” he answered. “How is your hospitable father?”
“A little impatient,” she answered. “He is going to sell you a couple of thousand acres of moor and a tumble-down manse for thirty thousand pounds.”
“Is he?” Jacob asked. “Shall I be able to wear kilts and have a bagpipe man?”
“There are no feudal rights,” she told him. “Besides, I don’t think you’d look well in kilts.”
“Well, there isn’t going to be any thirty thousand pounds,” Jacob declared.
She took out her oars.