“You have not forgotten me, then, Christina?”

“No, mem,” said the grave Highland woman.  She had beautiful, clear, blue-gray eyes, but there was no pity in them.

“I suppose you have no part in this mad freak?”

The old woman seemed puzzled.  She said, with a sort of serious politeness,—­

“I do not know, mem.  I have not the good English as Hamish.”

“But surely you know this,” said Miss Gertrude White, with more animation, “that I am here against my will?  You understand that, surely?  That I am being carried away against my will from my own home and my friends?  You know it very well; but perhaps your master has not told you of the risk you run?  Do you know what that is?  Do you think there are no laws in this country?”

“Sir Keith he is the master of the boat,” said Christina.  “Iss there anything now that I can do for you, mem?”

“Yes,” said Miss White, boldly; “there is.  You can help me to get ashore.  And you will save your master from being looked on as a madman.  And you will save yourselves from being hanged.”

“I wass to ask you,” said the old Highland woman “when you would be for having the dinner.  And Hamish, he wass saying that you will hef the dinner what time you are thinking of; and will you hef the dinner all by yourself?”

“I tell you this, woman,” said Miss White, with quick anger, “that I will neither eat nor drink so long as I am on board this yacht!  What is the use of this nonsense?  I wish to be put on shore.  I am getting tired of this folly.  I tell you I want to go ashore; and I am going ashore; and it will be the worse for any one who tries to stop me!”

“I do not think you can go ashore, mem,” Christina said, somewhat deliberately picking out her English phrases, “for the gig is up at the davits now; and the dingy—­you wass not thinking of going ashore by yourself in the dingy?  And last night, mem, at a town, we had many things brought on board; and if you would tell me what you would hef for the dinner, there is no one more willing than me.  And I hope you will hef very good comfort on board the yacht.”

“I can’t get it into your head that you are talking nonsense!” said Miss White, angrily.  “I tell you I will not go anywhere in this yacht!  And what is the use of talking to me about dinner?  I tell you I will neither eat nor drink while I am on board this yacht!”

“I think that would be a ferry foolish thing, mem,” Christina said, humbly enough; but all the same, the scornful fashion in which this young lady had addressed her had stirred a little of the Highland woman’s blood; and she added—­still with great apparent humility—­“But if you will not eat, they say that iss a ferry good thing for the pride; and there iss not much pride left if one hass nothing to eat, mem.”

“I presume that is to be my prison?” said Miss White, haughtily, turning to the smart little stateroom beyond the companion.