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Alan had not seen this, looking straight to seaward at the ship and
skiff.
"It maun be as it will!" said he, when I had told him, "Weel may
yon boatie row, or my craig'll have to thole a raxing."
That part of the beach was long and flat, and excellent walking
when the tide was down; a little cressy burn flowed over it in one
place to the sea; and the sandhills ran along the head of it like
the rampart of a town. No eye of ours could spy what was passing
behind there in the bents, no hurry of ours could mend the speed of
the boat's coming: time stood still with us through that uncanny
period of waiting.
"There is one thing I would like to ken," say Alan. "I would like
to ken these gentry's orders. We're worth four hunner pound the
pair of us: how if they took the guns to us, Davie! They would
get a bonny shot from the top of that lang sandy bank."
"Morally impossible," said I. "The point is that they can have no
guns. This thing has been gone about too secret; pistols they may
have, but never guns."
"I believe ye'll be in the right," says Alan.


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