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"Hech! mon, dinna fash yersel' aboot her, the young leddy is doin' vera weel," observed Sawney; "an' fegs, ye ne'er seen sic 'n beautiful roses in a' yer life as cam in her cheek when I tauld her aboot the canny chiel that plucked her, as it were, a brand frae the burnin'. Hoot! Mr. Stanley, ne'er try to look sae dignified; d'ye think I dinna see the smile in yer black e'e. If yer no prood o' savin' the life o' sic a handsome leddy, ye dinna deserve to hear the message she has sent ye."

"A message for me!" exclaimed Fred, with an impetuosity that brought a sudden crimson to his dark cheek.

"Aye, mon! a message to ye, deil a less. And what for wudna she? Did ye no save her life?"

"But the message! the message!" exclaimed Fred, impatiently.

"Oo! ay! the message! jist sae! 'Tell him,' says she, an' soul o' me! she lookit sae bonnie wi' her blue e'e and her gowden locks as she said it, that I'd a gi'en a hunder' pounds to hae been ye at the time."

"But the message! the message! the message!" cried Fred, losing all patience.