Just let me win upon my horse," he added.
"Catriona must come with us," said I. "She can have no more
traffic with that man. She and I are to be married." At which she
pressed my hand to her side.
"Are ye there with it?" says Alan, looking back. "The best day's
work that ever either of you did yet! And I'm bound to say, my
dawtie, ye make a real, bonny couple."
The way that he was following brought us close in by the windmill,
where I was aware of a man in seaman's trousers, who seemed to be
spying from behind it. Only, of course, we took him in the rear.
"See, Alan!"
"Wheesht!" said, he, "this is my affairs."
The man was, no doubt, a little deafened by the clattering of the
mill, and we got up close before he noticed. Then he turned, and
we saw he was a big fellow with a mahogany face.
"I think, sir," says Alan, "that you speak the English?"
"Non, monsieur," says he, with an incredible bad accent.
"Non, monsieur," cries Alan, mocking him. "Is that how they learn
you French on the Seahorse? Ye muckle, gutsey hash, here's a Scots
boot to your English hurdies!"
And bounding on him before he could escape, he dealt the man a kick
that laid him on his nose.
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