out you, Rob,
from the neighbours. They say that you, and your brothers and cousin,
are sober and diligent lads; and that you are good seamen, and careful.
Then you have been a while at the herring fishing yourself. Now do you
think you could manage that new boat?'

'Me!' said Rob, with his eyes staring, and his face aflame.

'I go by what the neighbours say, Rob. They say ye are a prudent lad,
not over venturesome; and I think I could trust my property to ye.
What say ye?'

In his excitement at the notion of being made master of such a
beautiful craft, Rob forgot the respect he ought to have shown in
addressing so great a person as the banker. He blurted out--

'Man, I would just like to try!'

'I will pay ye a certain sum per week while the fishing lasts,'
continued Mr. Bailie, 'and ye will hire what crew ye think fit.
Likewise I will give ye a percentage on the takes. Will that do?'

Rob was quite bewildered. All he could say was--

'I am obliged to ye, sir. Will ye wait for a minute till I see Neil.'

And very soon the wild rumour ran through Erisaig that no other than
Rob MacNicol had been appointed master of the new skiff, the _Mary of
Argyle_; and that he had taken his brothers and cousin as his crew.
Some of the women shook their heads; and said it was a shame to let
such mere lads go to the herring-fishing--for some night or other they
would be drowned; but the men, who knew something of Rob's seamanship,
had no fear at all; and their only doubt was about the younger lads
being up to the heavy work of hauling in the nets in the morning.

But their youth was a fault that would mend week by week. In the
meantime, Rob, having sold out his share in MacDougall's boat, bought
jerseys and black boots and yellow oil-skins for his companions; so
that the new crew, if they were rather slightly built, looked smart
enough, as they went down to the slip to overhaul the _Mary of Argyle_.

With what a pride they regarded the long and shapely lines of her--the
yellow beams shining with varnish; the tall mast at the bow, with its
stout cordage; the brand-new stove, that was to boil their tea for them
in the long watches of the night; the magnificent oars; the new sheets
and sails--everything spick and span. And this great mass of ruddy
netting lying in the shed, with its perfect floats and accurate
sinkers--this was not like the makeshift that had captured the cuddies.

Then on the morning that the _Mary of