n your bonnet, Scood."

The boy looked up and laughed, his mouth busy the while.

"Father saw sax saumon in the black pool," he cried eagerly.

"Then they'll have to stop," said Kenneth gloomily.

"Eh?"

"There's a chap coming down from London."

"To fesh?"

"Suppose so. We've got to go and meet him."

"With ta pony?"

"No, the boat; coming by the Grenadier."

"Ou ay."

"It's a great bother, Scood."

"But it's a verra fine mornin' for a sail," said the boy, looking up and
munching away.

"But I didn't want to sail; I wanted to fish."

"The fush can wait, tat she can."

"Oh, you!" shouted Kenneth. "Wish I had something to throw at you."

"If she did, I'd throw it back," said Scoodrach, grinning.

"I should like to catch you at it. There, go and get the boat."

"Plenty of time."

"Never mind that; let's be off and have a good sail first, as we have to
go."

"Will she--will you tak' the gun?"

"Of course I shall. Take the lines too, Scood; we may get a mackerel."

The lad opened his large mouth, tucked in the last piece of marmalade,
and then leaped off the stone on to the rock.

"Scood!"

The boy stroked down his grey kilt, and looked up.

"Put on your shoes and stockings."

"What for?"

"Because I tell you. Because there's company coming. Be off!"

"She's got a big hole in her stocking, and ta shoe hurts her heel."

"Be off and put them on," roared Kenneth from the window. "I shall be
ready in a quarter of an hour."

Scood nodded, and began to climb rapidly over the buttress of rock which
ran down into the sea, the height to which the tide rose being marked by
an encrustation of myriads of acorn barnacles, among which every now and
then a limpet stood out like a boss, while below, in the clear water, a
thick growth of weed turned the rock to a golden brown, and changed the
tint of the transparent water.

CHAPTER TWO.

"A BORE!"

"What a bother!" muttered Kenneth, as he left the dining-room, crossed
the hall, and entered a little oak-panelled place filled with all kinds
of articles used in the chase, and whose walls were dotted with
trophies--red deer and roebucks' heads, stuffed game, wild fowl, a
golden eagle, and a pair of peregrine falcons. He took a double-barrel
from the rack, placed a supply of cartridges in a belt, buckled it on,
and then returned to the oak-panelled hall, to pause where his bonnet
hang over the hilt of an old claymore.

Carelessly putting