likit to
hear--anither wund gurlin' owerheid, amang thae fearsome, auld stane
craigs o' the Cutchull'ns. Weel, Sandy was forrit wi' the jib sheet; we
couldnae see him for the mains'l, that had just begude to draw, when a'
at ance he gied a skirl. I luffed for my life, for I thocht we were ower
near Soa; but na, it wasnae that, it was puir Sandy Gabart's deid
skreigh, or near hand, for he was deid in half an hour. A't he could
tell was that a sea deil, or sea bogle, or sea spenster, or sic-like, had
clum up by the bowsprit, an' gi'en him ae cauld, uncanny look. An', or
the life was oot o' Sandy's body, we kent weel what the thing betokened,
and why the wund gurled in the taps o' the Cutchull'ns; for doon it
cam'--a wund do I ca' it! it was the wund o' the Lord's anger--an' a'
that nicht we foucht like men dementit, and the niest that we kenned we
were ashore in Loch Uskevagh, an' the cocks were crawin' in Benbecula.'

'It will have been a merman,' Rorie said.

'A merman!' screamed my uncle with immeasurable scorn. 'Auld wives'
clavers! There's nae sic things as mermen.'

'But what was the creature like?' I asked.

'What like was it? Gude forbid that we suld ken what like it was! It
had a kind of a heid upon it--man could say nae mair.'

Then Rorie, smarting under the affront, told several tales of mermen,
mermaids, and sea-horses that had come ashore upon the islands and
attacked the crews of boats upon the sea; and my uncle, in spite of his
incredulity, listened with uneasy interest.

'Aweel, aweel,' he said, 'it may be sae; I may be wrang; but I find nae
word o' mermen in the Scriptures.'

'And you will find nae word of Aros Roost, maybe,' objected Rorie, and
his argument appeared to carry weight.

When dinner was over, my uncle carried me forth with him to a bank behind
the house. It was a very hot and quiet afternoon; scarce a ripple
anywhere upon the sea, nor any voice but the familiar voice of sheep and
gulls; and perhaps in consequence of this repose in nature, my kinsman
showed himself more rational and tranquil than before. He spoke evenly
and almost cheerfully of my career, with every now and then a reference
to the lost ship or the treasures it had brought to Aros. For my part, I
listened to him in a sort of trance, gazing with all my heart on that
remembered scene, and drinking gladly the sea-air and the smoke of peats
that had been lit by Mary.

Perhaps an hour had passed when my uncle,