st, but a hail frae a sonsy lass--but what gars her
risk her bonny legs in yon daft-like wie beats me."

"I think," says I, "yon'll be Finlay Stuart's Uist powny; there's none
here has the silver mane and tail. . . ."

"Imphm," says Dan; "imphm, Hamish, as Aul' Nick said when his mouth was
fu'. Yon's Finlay's beast, and I'm thinkin' o' a' Finlay's lassies,
there's just wan wid bother her noddle tae come here away, and that's
Mirren; but wae's me," said he, with his droll smile, "she's set her
cap at the excise-man, they tell me."

The lass drew up her pony beside us, and, man, they were a picture,
these two--her hair, blown all loose, rippling like a wave, and the
flush of youth glowing in her face and neck, and her eyes shining, and
the noble Hieland pony, with his great curved neck and round dark
barrel, and the flowing silver mane and tail. To me she bowed coldly
enough, but with all the grace of one whose men-folk called themselves
Royal, or maybe from Appin--especially in their cups. Although it
seems the Royal Stuart race were none too particular whatever, but Dan
had always his own way with the lassies.

"Has the de'il run away wi' the excise-man, Mirren, that you're risking
horseflesh among the peat-bogs?"

"No," she cries, "no, but I wish he would be taking the whole dollop o'
them to his hob, and then maybe decent folks would be having peace."

"That would stamp ye Finlay's lass if I didna ken already," says Dan.

"Ken me," cried the maid; "I'm well kent as a bad sixpence--a lass that
should ha' been a lad wi' work to do or fighting, instead o'
sitting--sitting like a peat stack, or"--with a fine flare o'
colour--"like a midden waiting to be 'lifted.'"

"Ye're hard to please, my dear; there's many a lad wid be sair put oot
if ye took to the breeks. . . ."

"It will not be this gab clash I came to be hearin', Dan McBride, but a
most private business."

"Oh, don't be minding Hamish, my lass; he canna pass a rick o' barley
but his eyes and mouth water. It's _just lamentable_," said he.

Her red lips took a curl at that, and then her speech came all in a
rush.

"I've heard--oh, do not be asking me how I will be hearing these
things, but the preventive men are lying at the cove waiting for the
_Gull_, and I thought maybe if she came the night, wi' a storm comin'
from the southard and them trying to make the port, they might all be
taken away and transported, and he would be among them. . . ."

"