"Yes, sir, as well as my ain cottage lum."
"Cottage what, sirrah?"
"Lum, sir; lum."
"'Tis well," said Bull, turning to Captain Edmund Howard, who had recognised the poor fisherman of Broughty-point, and who had been standing somewhat aloof; "let this man be well watched, and call me the moment a sail appears in sight; for Scot though he be, his eyes may serve us here better than our own."
"But he may escape," suggested Howard, who half hoped he would.
"Escape! nay, nay; let his legs be secured in fetterlocks, then he'll not drag his anchor, I warrant."
Strictly guarded, Jamie was kept for three days on board of the Unicorn, the ship of Bull; and though he knew not exactly for what purpose, he feared it would prove of no good ultimately to himself. In these three days which succeeded the midnight storm, what would be the thoughts, the surmises of poor Mary, and how great would be her terror at his disappearance; how much greater, too, if his boat was picked up, or cast ashore, with the body of his slaughtered friend in it! The poor man covered his brown visage with his rough hands, and endeavoured to shut out sight, sound, and reflection, but such thoughts would come again and again.
Edmund Howard treated him with the greatest kindness, and endeavoured to raise his drooping spirits by promises that he would soon be set on shore, with gold sufficient to buy ten such boats and nets as those he had lost; but Jamie ever replied,—
"Na—na, sir; I want nane o' your siller, for English gold works Scotland ever dule and wae; and may my fingers be blistered if I touch it!"
Then Howard questioned him about the family of Lord Drummond; but Jamie could only say that "it was commonly bruited abroad that his daughter, the Lady Margaret, the king's gude cousin, was to be Queen of Scotland, and that a winsome young pair they would be."