thrill of my shiver, he very kindly handed me a rough
jacket full of fish-scales, with which I was glad to cover myself.

"I thank you for this kindness," said I, "and will make so free as to
repay it with a warning. You take a high responsibility in this affair.
You are not like these ignorant, barbarous Highlanders, but know what
the law is and the risks of those that break it."

"I am no just exactly what ye would ca' an extremist for the law," says
he, "at the best of times; but in this business I act with a good
warranty."

"What are you going to do with me?" I asked.

"Nae harm," said he, "nae harm ava'. Ye'll hae strong freens, I'm
thinking. Ye'll be richt eneuch yet."

There began to fall a greyness on the face of the sea; little dabs of
pink and like coals of slow fire came in the east; and at the same time
the geese awakened, and began crying about the top of the Bass. It is
just the one crag of rock, as everybody knows, but great enough to carve
a city from. The sea was extremely little, but there went a hollow
plowter round the base of it. With the growing of the dawn I could see
it clearer and clearer; the straight crags painted with sea-birds'
droppings like a morning frost, the sloping top of it green with grass,
the clan of white geese that cried about the sides, and the black,
broken buildings of the prison sitting close on the sea's edge.

At the sight the truth came in upon me in a clap.

"It's there you're taking me!" I cried.

"Just to the Bass, mannie," said he: "whaur the auld sants were afore
ye, and I misdoubt if ye have come so fairly by your preeson."

"But none dwells there now," I cried; "the place is long a ruin."

"It'll be the mair pleisand a change for the solan geese, then," quoth
Andie dryly.

The day coming slowly brighter I observed on the bilge, among the big
stones with which fisherfolk ballast their boats, several kegs and
baskets, and a provision of fuel. All these were discharged upon the
crag. Andie, myself, and my three Highlanders (I call them mine,
although it was the other way about), landed along with them. The sun
was not yet up when the boat moved away again, the noise of the oars on
the thole-pins echoing from the cliffs, and left us in our singular
reclusion.

Andie Dale was the Prefect (as I would jocularly call him) of the Bass,
being at once the shepherd and the gamekeeper of that small and rich
estate. He had to mind the dozen or so of sheep that fed