the head-ropes, and net and fish went
to the bottom.

All hands were now about the cutter; Christie's nets were all strong and
new; they had been some time in the water; in hauling them up her side,
quantities of fish fell out of the net into the water, but there were
enough left.

She averaged twelve barrels a net.

Such of the yawls as were not quite full crept between the cutter and
the nets, and caught all they wanted.

The projector of this fortunate speculation suddenly announced that she
was very sleepy.

Flucker rolled her up in a sail, and she slept the sleep of infancy on
board her cutter.

When she awoke it was seven o'clock in the morning, and her cutter
was creeping with a smart breeze about two miles an hour, a mile from
Newhaven pier.

The yacht had returned to Granton, and the yawls, very low in the water,
were creeping along like snails, with both sails set.

The news was in Edinburgh long before they landed. They had been
discerned under Inch Keith at the dawn.

And the manner of their creeping along, when there was such a breeze,
told the tale at once to the keen, experienced eyes that are sure to be
scanning the sea.

Donkey-carts came rattling down from the capital.

Merchants came pelting down to Newhaven pier.

The whole story began to be put together by bits, and comprehended. Old
Johnstone's cleverness was recalled to mind.

The few fishermen left at Newhaven were ready to kill themselves.

Their wives were ready to do the same good office for La Johnstone.

Four Irish merchants agreed to work together, and to make a show of
competition, the better to keep the price down within bounds.

It was hardly fair, four men against one innocent unguarded female.

But this is a wicked world.

Christie landed, and proceeded to her own house; on the way she was
met by Jean Carnie, who debarrassed her of certain wrappers, and a
handkerchief she had tied round her head, and informed her she was the
pride of Newhaven.

She next met these four little merchants, one after another.

And since we ought to dwell as little as possible upon scenes in which
unguarded innocence is exposed to artful conspiracies, we will put
a page or two into the brute form of dramatic dialogue, and so sail
through it quicker.

_1st Merchant._ "Where are ye going, Meggie?"

_Christie Johnstone._ "If onybody asks ye, say ye dinna ken."

_1st Mer._ "Will ye sell your fish?"

_Christie._ "Suner than gie the