“But one may hope in the midst of doubt—at least that is what Mr Graham—and you—have taught me to do.”
“Yes, surely, my lady. I won’t let anyone beat me at that, if I can help it. And I think that so long as I kept my reason, I should be able to cry out, as that grandest and most human of all the prophets did—‘Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.’ But would you not like to sleep, my lady?”
“No, Malcolm. I would much rather hear you talk.—Could you not tell me a story now? Lady Lossie mentioned one you once told her about an old castle somewhere not far from here——”
“Eh, my leddy!” broke in Annie Mair, who had waked up while they were speaking, “I wuss ye wad gar him tell ye that story, for my man he’s h’ard ’im tell ’t, an’ he says it’s unco gruesome: I wad fain hear ’t.—Wauk up, Lizzy,” she went on, in her eagerness waiting for no answer; “Ma’colm’s gauin’ to tell ’s the tale o’ the auld castel o’ Colonsay.—It’s oot by yon’er, my leddy— no that far frae the Deid Heid.—Wauk up, Lizzy.”
“I’m no sleepin’, Annie,” said Lizzy, “—though like Ma’colm’s auld man,” she added with a sigh, “I wad whiles fain be.”
Now there were reasons why Malcolm should not be unwilling to tell the strange wild story requested of him, and he commenced it at once, but modified the Scotch of it considerably for the sake of the unaccustomed ears. When it was ended Clementina said nothing; Annie Mair said “Hech, sirs!” and Lizzy with a great sigh, remarked,
“The deil maun be in a’thing whaur God hasna a han’, I’m thinkin’.”
“Ye may tak yer aith upo’ that,” rejoined Malcolm.
It was a custom in Peter’s boat never to draw the nets without a prayer, uttered now by one and now by another of the crew. Upon this occasion, whether it was in deference to Malcolm, who, as he well understood, did not like long prayers, or that the presence of Clementina exercised some restraint upon his spirit, out of the bows of the boat came now the solemn voice of its master, bearing only this one sentence:
“Oh Thoo, wha didst tell thy dissiples to cast the net upo’ the side whaur swam the fish, gien it be thy wull ’at we catch the nicht, lat ’s catch; gien it binna thy wull, lat ’s no catch.—Haul awa’, my laads.”