"My best anchor—my bonnie Mary—is still at hame, Maister Wad," retorted Jamie; "but we a' ken how your Tib broke from her moorings and went adrift, naebody kens where."
"Tut—I have ten Marys as gude as yours," replied the gunner, "forbye a Meinie and a Peg to boot."
"I have nae time for daffin the noo, Maister Wad. Is the admiral on board?"
"No—he is at the king's lodging, and has no come off yet; but what would ye wi' him?"
"That which you maunna hear, Willie. Then, is the Captain Barton on board?"
"No—he, Sir David Falconer, and a' body else (but the chaplain) are ashore at St. Margaret's."
Gair stamped his foot, and scratched his beard impatiently.
"Can ye no tell us what's in the wind, man?" asked the seamen, as they clustered about him, in surprise at his excitement.
"Come," said Cuddie the coxswain, "what can you have to tell the admiral that we canna hear? Out wi' it, hand owre hand, man."
"It's something that will find ye a' work for a week to come, something that may knock the harns out o' half your heads," replied Gair, angrily.