"But I couldn't see it. And if we discuss that point I shall find it as much out of my range as the seal was. So give me a good mark for refraining when I did see its jolliness."
"Besides, it would have been no good trying. It would have been down like a shot if we had stirred a finger," said Will, philosophically.
Paul Macleod sighed. "There goes my last claim to saintship. You are a perfect devil's advocate, Cameron."
"But, really, Miss Marjory," put in the Reverend James, who had, as usual, been left far behind in the quick interchange of thought, "I do not see why you should object to shooting a seal. Man is permitted by a merciful Creator to destroy animal life----"
"In order to preserve his own, and even then it seems a pity," interrupted the girl, eagerly. "Oh, I daresay, Captain Macleod, the feeling isn't strong enough to make me turn vegetarian, but it is wanton cruelty to kill a poor seal which is of no use to anyone!"
"There you go!" grumbled Will. "Why! I wanted its paws awfully for tobacco pouches--mine is quite worn out."
"Your remark, Cameron, is childish and unreasonable," replied Paul, from his lounge. "You cannot expect Miss Carmichael's tolerance of humanity to extend to tobacco pouches. Let us be thankful it concedes mutton chops."
"A seal is a ferry clever beast, whatever," put in Donald. "It wass John Roy wass walking on the rocks at Craignish, and he wass seeing a big seal, and heavin' stones at it, and--gorsh me!--but it wass takin' the stones and fro'ing them back at John. And, tamn me! but the creature wass a better shot than John--oo--aye! a far better shot whatever."
"And that is a fact, Donald?" asked Will, solemnly.
"Not a fack at all, sir; but John Roy he wass tellin' it to me."