Jack Scarlett lay on his bed of heather tops, wrapped in his plaid, and slept the sleep of the easy of conscience.
"What's a' the tirrivee?"[F] he growled, when Wat shook him. "Get up and escape—what's the terrible fyke and hurry? Disturbin' a man in his first sleep. Surely, ye could either hae comed afore he fell ower or let him hae his sleep oot. A man's health is afore a'thing when it comes to my time o' life. And it is no havers and nonsense—far frae't! But ye hae no consideration, Wat Gordon—never had, ever since I kenned ye."
[F] Unnecessary disturbance.
So, growling and grumbling as was his wont, old Jack gathered his belongings together with soldierly practicality, pocketing the remains of his evening's meal, and bringing all sorts of treasures out of numberless hiding-places here and there about his dungeon.
"Now I am at your service," he said, as he stood erect.
[CHAPTER XXXV]
SKIRTING THE BREAKERS
As the party filed out of the low dungeon door, each of them of necessity stepped over the prostrate body of Misfortunate Colin. The fates that sport with destiny had offered him up a sacrifice to the wrath of his chief, in order that luckier men might go scatheless.
"It micht just as weel hae been Alister, my man!" said Bess; "for he will be as drunk as the lave, or maybe a kennin waur! But then Alister has been a fortunate man a' his days—no' like that puir tyke there that never supped meal porridge but he choked himsel' wi' the spoon!"