The Raiders: Being Some Passages In The Life Of John Faa, Lord And Earl Of Little Egypt. Samuel R. Crockett

in their mind to run any more risks when they had once come so well off. So Will Maxwell turned the head of the Spindrift southward in the direction of Derby Haven, where for safety they landed the goods again; and by the time that the second king’s ship, which proved to be the preventive schooner Ariel, sent a boat aboard, the Maxwells were once more peaceful, coast-wise traders, with a cargo of salt, alum, barytes for the men of Mona, and hides and sheep-skins to take back in exchange to the tanneries of Dumfries.

      So the young officer who came on board was obliged to report all right upon his return. But MacCallum, the boatswain of the Ariel, said to Kennedy Maxwell: ‘My lad, this may do yince, an’ twice, an’ gin ye hae luck three times; but at the hinder end ye’ll cool yer heels in Kirkcudbright jail. An’ that’s no a bonny place, I can assure ye.’

      ‘Hoot, Rab,’ said Kennedy, ‘it’s no sae lang since ye war rinnin’ the bonny faulds o’ lace wi’ the best o’ us. Ye canna hae muckle to say.’

      ‘Aye, Kennedy, to my shame that’s ower true, but I hae seen the error o’ my ways in time!’

      ‘Likely that,’ returned Kennedy, dryly, ‘an’ the guid o’ a pound a week and a pension at the hinder end.’

      ‘Aweel, Kennedy, say as ye like, my word was kindly meant, lad,’ said the boatswain.

      ‘An’ kindly ta’en,’ said Kennedy, nursing his arm with his other hand; ‘but gin I war you I wad come nae mair to yon toon. My faither’s a passionate man, in spite o’ havin’ seen the error o’ his ways.’

      ‘What for should I keep awa’ frae your hoose or ony ither hoose?’ cried Rab MacCallum. ‘Ye ken Deputy Dallas, the gauger, is there every ither nicht.’

      ‘I ken that,’ said Kennedy. ‘Ye see the way o’t is this, MacCallum – my faither can be doin’ wi’ preventive men, an’ at a pinch he can put up wi’ maybe a smuggler or twa. But the man he canna do wi’ is the man that has been yae thing an’ noo is anither, an’ wha tries to keep a fit in ilka camp!’

      ‘Naebody ever said that I gied information,’ said MacCallum.

‘Na,’ said Kennedy, ‘but ye come frae Rerrick and the sted o’ the gallows that hanged Henry Greg is atween yer een.’1

      The boatswain flew into a passion.

      ‘I’ll catch ye yet, you Maxwells; you an’ your prood sister. Ye a’ hae the gibin’ tongue an’ the pridefu’ e’e that scorns honest fowk. But I’ll hae ye laid low some day yet.’

      ‘That shows,’ cried Kennedy, ‘that ye hae tried to do it afore. A fig for your threatenings. Ye’re like daft Tammy Norie’s bladder that he carries daudin’ on a stick – fu’ o’ wind, and maybe a pea or two rattling i’ the wame o’ ye! Nocht else!’

1 A dark hint at a supposed local propensity for underhand work.