go the halyards. "And if it is foolishness, this is the foolishness of
it; I will not let you or any man say that Sir Keith Macleod was in the
water, and Duncan Cameron went home with a dry skin!"

And Duncan Cameron was as good as his word; for as the boat went
plunging forward to the neighborhood in which they occasionally saw the
head of Macleod appear on the side of a wave and then disappear again as
soon as the wave broke, and as soon as the lugsail had been rattled
down, he sprung clear from the side of the boat. For a second or two,
John Cameron, left by himself in the boat, could not see any one of the
three; but at last he saw the black head of his brother, and then some
few yards beyond, just as a wave happened to roll by, he saw his master
and the boy. The boat had almost enough way on her to carry her the
length; he had but to pull at the huge oar to bring her head round a
bit. And he pulled, madly and blindly, until he was startled by a cry
close by. He sprang to the side of the boat. There was his brother
drifting by, holding the boy with one arm. John Cameron rushed to the
stern to fling a rope, but Duncan Cameron had been drifting by with a
purpose; for as soon as he got clear of the bigger boat, he struck for
the rope of the dingy, and got hold of that, and was safe. And here was
the master, too, clinging to the side of the dingy so as to recover his
breath, but not attempting to board the cockleshell in these plunging
waters. There were tears running down John Cameron's rugged face as he
drew the three up and over the side of the big boat.

"And if you was drowned, Sir Keith, it was not me would have carried the
story to Castle Dare. I would just as soon have been drowned too."

"Have you any whiskey, John?" Macleod said, pushing the hair out of his
eyes, and trying to get his mustache out of his mouth.

In ordinary circumstances John Cameron would have told a lie; but on
this occasion he hurriedly bade the still undressed Duncan to take the
tiller, and he went forward to a locker at the bows, which was usually
kept for bait, and from thence he got a black bottle which was half
full.

"Now, Johnny Wickes," Macleod said to the boy, who was quite blinded
and bewildered, but otherwise apparently not much the worse, "swallow a
mouthful of this, you young rascal; and if I catch you imitating a
dolphin again, it is a rope's end you'll have, and not good Highland
whiskey."

Johnny Wickes did not underst