"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. . . ."
"Why will ye be naming that man to me?" she cried, in a burst of passion. "Is it not bad enough to be doing that I let him tell me their plans, and him not knowing where I carry them."
"I might have kent the breed o' ye wouldna be content wi' an exciseman, Mirren. Aweel, Hamish and me will just be having a sail this night, storm or no', and the _Gull_ can coorie into mony's the neuk among the rocks; but whit bates me is how they fun' oot the cove."
"It would just be Dol Bob that told," whispered Mirren.
"The dirty slink," cried Dan. "I'm thinking there will be some talk between that man and me soon; but I'm no good enough looking to be thinking ye rade here to warn me, Mirren, so I'll be tellin' Ronny McKinnon tae keep his heart up yet when the _Seagull's_ here, but ye'll hiv a big handfu' wi' Ronny."
"I would not be having him less," she cried, a little pleased as I thought; and then, as she turned to go, "There's a bonny wild lass at McCurdy's old hut, Dan, and she told me where to look for ye. Ye might tell her Mirren Stuart was speiring for her kindly, and thinking naething of Dan McBride, for the look she gied me out o' her black een made me grue." [2]