"Hark," said Wad, lowering his fiddle-bow as a bell tolled; "what's o'clock?"
"It is Sanct Clement's Kirk, but tak nae heed what's o'clock, sae lang as ye are happy, Willie," said Cuddie. "We'll hae another stoup, and pay the score wi' the fore-topsail."
"And are you sae happy awa' frae your bonnie English wife?"
"Yes, I am—happy as a cricket; but do the folk no say that bell tolled o' its sel on the nicht the king was slain."
"There can be nae sic thing in nature, coxswain," said a seaman.
"But there may be out o' nature," replied the coxswain, sharply; "how the black de'il can you ken aucht aboot it—you that hae been but a month at sea?"
"I hae heard o' mony queer things in my time, Cuddie; but I never heard o' a bell that rang o' its ain accord."
"Weel, I have," said the old boatswain, solemnly; "and if ye wad like to hear a bit yarnie spun anent it—"
"Coil away, boatswain," said one, clinking his stoup.
"Pay it out, carle Archy," said another.