n't wrastled wid it!"

By that time most of the men of the hamlet had returned, and a rig out
of fisher clothes was lent to each of the unfortunates, so that they
were enabled to pass the night in comfort while their own garments were
in front of a good fire.

"Is that sick girl your daughter, Ian?" asked Giles Jackman that night,
as he walked on the shore with his host before retiring to rest.

"No, sir; she's a niece--the daughter of a brother o' mine who hes
feathered his nest petter than me. He's a well-to-do grocer in Oban,
an' hes geen his bairn a pretty good edication; but it's my opeenion
they hev all but killed her wi' their edication, for the doctor has telt
them to stop it altogither, an' send her here for a change o' air."

"Indeed! An interesting child, and so well-mannered, too," remarked
Jackman.

"Humph! Nae doot she is. They do say that it's because my brither has
gotten an English wife. But for my pairt, oor weemen seem to me to be
as weel mainered as the weemen sooth o' the Tweed."

"Quite as well, I doubt not; though I have not seen much of your
countrywomen, Ian. Besides, good manners are to be judged by varying
standards. What is good in the opinion of the Eskimo may be thought
very bad by the Hindoo, and _vice versa_. It is very much a matter of
taste. The manners of your niece, at all events, are admirable. Now it
is time to turn in. Good-night, Ian."

The sun was high next morning when the wrecked men awoke, and began to
feel the outcries of nature with reference to breakfast. Long before
that time the men of Cove had gone off to the hills, the peat-hags, or
the sea, according to their respective callings. But Mrs Anderson had
a sumptuous breakfast of oatmeal porridge and fresh milk ready for the
strangers.

"Musha! but it'll make me mouth wather all the afthernoon thinkin' of
it," said Quin, on finishing his second plateful.

"It's prime wittles," remarked Tips, as he helped himself to more.

"Now, Barret, have you finished?" asked Mabberly.

"No; why?"

"Because, in the first place, you are evidently eating too much for your
health, and, in the second place, I want you to go up to what Ian calls
the Hoose, as a deputation to the laird. You see, although we are
forced, as it were, to throw ourselves on his hospitality, I don't quite
like to descend on him all at once with the whole strength of our party.
It will be better for one of us to break the ice, and as you ar