untenance. He was
brown as sun and salt sea-winds could make him, and had very blue eyes
and dark hair, telling of Norwegian ancestry. He lounged along with
his hands in his pockets, as if he did not care to walk, yet got over
the ground as fast as Donal, who, with yet some remnant of the
peasant's stride, covered the ground as if he meant walking. After
their greeting a great and enduring silence fell, which lasted till the
journey was half-way over; then all at once the fisherman spoke.

"There's a lass at the castel, sir," he said, "they ca' Eppy Comin."

"There is," answered Donal.

"Do ye ken the lass, sir--to speak til her, I mean?"

"Surely," replied Donal. "I know her grandfather and grandmother well."

"Dacent fowk!" said Stephen.

"They are that!" responded Donal, "--as good people as I know!"

"Wud ye du them a guid turn?" asked the fisherman.

"Indeed I would!"

"Weel, it's this, sir: I hae grit doobts gien a' be gaein' verra weel
wi' the lass at the castel."

As he said the words he turned his head aside, and spoke so low and in
such a muffled way that Donal could but just make out what he said.

"You must be a little plainer if you would have me do anything," he
returned.

"I'll be richt plain wi' ye, sir," answered Stephen, and then fell
silent as if he would never speak again.

Donal waited, nor uttered a sound. At last he spoke once more.

"Ye maun ken, sir," he said "I hae had a fancy to the lass this mony a
day; for ye'll alloo she's baith bonny an' winsome!"

Donal did not reply, for although he was ready to grant her bonny, he
had never felt her winsome.

"Weel," he went on, "her an' me 's been coortin' this twa year; an'
guid freen's we aye was till this last spring, whan a' at ance she
turnt highty-tighty like, nor, du what I micht, could I get her to say
what it was 'at cheengt her: sae far as I kenned I had dune naething,
nor wad she say I had gi'en her ony cause o' complaint. But though she
couldna say I had ever gi'en mair nor a ceevil word to ony lass but
hersel', she appeart unco wullin' to fix me wi' this ane an' that ane
or ony ane! I couldna think what had come ower her! But at last--an'
a sair last it is!--I hae come to the un'erstan'in o' 't: she wud fain
hae a pretence for br'akin' wi' me! She wad hae 't 'at I was duin' as
she was duin' hersel'--haudin' company wi' anither!"

"Are you quite sure of what you say?" asked Donal.

"Ower sure, sir, though I'm no