"The Crinan Canal is not to be despised, Duncan," said Ingram, who was sitting on the red sand of the bank, "when you are in it."
"And do you know what John says that Allan will say to him the first time they went ashore at Glasgow?"
"I am sure I don't."
"It wass many years ago, before that Allan will be going many times to America, and he will neffer hef seen such fine shops and ta big houses and hundreds and hundreds of people, every one with shoes on their feet. And he will say to John, 'John, ef I had known in time I should hef been born here.' But no one will believe it iss true, he is such a teffle of a liar, that John; and he will hef some stories about Mr. Mackenzie himself, as I hef been told, that he will tell when he goes to Styornoway. But John is a ferry cunning fellow, and will not tell any such stories in Borva."
"I suppose if he did, Duncan, you would dip him in Loch Roag?"
"Oh, there iss more than one," said Duncan with a grim twinkle in his eye—"there iss more than one that would hef a joke with him if he was to tell stories about Mr. Mackenzie."
Lavender had been standing listening, unknown to both. He now went forward and bade them good-morning, and then, having had a look at the trout that Duncan had caught, pulled Ingram up from the bank, put his arm in his and walked away with him.
"Ingram," he said suddenly, with a laugh and a shrug, "you know I always come to you when I'm in a fix."
"I suppose you do," said the other, "and you are always welcome to whatever help I can give you. But sometimes it seems to me you rush into fixes, with the sort of notion that I am responsible for getting you out."
"I can assure you nothing of the kind is the case. I could not be so ungrateful. However, in the mean time—that is—the fact is, I asked Sheila last night if she would marry me."