an. Och, bring him back, my lad, and I'll
be blessing ye and praying for ye in your bloody wars.'

"At that a tarry breeks up with an oar and skelps a splash o' water at
the old woman, and laughed at her with the wind blowing her skirts, and
showing her lean shanks.

"'Go back to your weeds and your snakes, ye witch," he cries in the
Gaelic; 'we'll make a sailor-man out o' your whelp,' and the oars began
to plash.

"Down on her knees went the old _cailleach_. 'Bring him to me, ye
hounds, before I put a curse on ye,' and she tore her coorie from her
head, and the wind tore through the strands of her white hair, and they
rose like elf-locks. High above her head she threw her arm, her
fingers stiff and pointing, there on the quay-head, an awesome sight in
the mirk of a half moon.

"Then slowly, slowly, softly she began--

"'Cursed be ye all, seed, breed, and generations o' ye. The madness o'
the sea come on ye in the still night watches, friendless, friendless
on the face o' the waters be your lives, and your deaths too foul for
the sea to be giving you a cleanly burial.' Then in a skirl o' rage,
her face working, 'The foul things o' the deep shall reive the flesh
from ye in your death, and in your lives ye shall mourn for the quiet
streams o' fresh water and the sight of green things growing--and
never, never, never get nigh them. . . .'

"In the boat the men lay on their oars, with faces white below the tan
o' wind and weather, and then hurriedly she came astern, and Neil
McKillop sprang on the quay, and to his mother, and the pressgang boat
shot into the haze off the land, and the mother and son went back to
the croft on the hillside."

His tale finished, McKelvie drained his glass at a gulp, and his lips
pressed together as though he were unwilling that even the volatile
essence might escape, and then--

"We'll go," says he. "Robin!"

At his word one of the swarthy sons entered and stood waiting, and
through the open door to the common room I saw groups of sailors,
asleep on the floor before the fire, and asleep on the benches where
they sat; yet some hardened drinkers kept the drink going.

"Ye see, Hamish," Dan whispered, "there's a big sea running, and these
sailor boys would rather risk the floor than their wee boats."

I felt a sinking at my heart, for I knew that the sailors were sweirt
to risk their lives, yet there was not one timid face among them, but
many bold and truculent--men used to r