peers an' the peaches, 'cause she cudna lippen to natur' to ripe them sweet eneuch; only 'at she wad never tak the honey frae the bees. She's jist the pictur' o' natur' hersel' turnt some dementit. I cud jist fancy I saw her gaein' aboot amo' the ripe corn, on sic a night as this o' the mune, happin' 't frae the frost. An' I s' warran' no ae mesh in oor nets wad she lea' ohn clippit open gien the twine had a hernn' by the gills. She's e'en sae pitifu' owre the sinner 'at she winna gie him a chance o' growin' better. I won'er gien she believes 'at there's ae great thoucht abune a', an' aneth a', an' roon' a', an' in a' thing. She cudna be in sic a mist o' benevolence and parritch-hertitness gien she cud lippen till a wiser. It's nae won'er she kens naething aboot poetry but the meeserable sids an' sawdist an' leavin's the gran' leddies sing an' ca' sangs! Nae mair is 't ony won'er she sud tak me for dementit, gien she h'ard what I was singin'; only I canna think she did that, for I was but croonin' till mysel'." — Malcolm was wrong there, for he was sindng out loud and clear. — "That was but a kin' o' an unknown tongue atween Him an' me, an' no anither."
CHAPTER XL.
THE SWIFT.
Florimel succeeded so far in reassuring her friend as to the safety if not sanity of her groom that she made no objection to yet another reading from "St. Ronan's Well;" upon which occasion an incident occurred that did far more to reassure her than all the attestations of his mistress.
Clementina, in consenting, had proposed, it being a warm, sunny afternoon, that they should that time go down to the lake, and sit with their work on the bank while Malcolm read. This lake, like the whole place, and some of the people in it, was rather strange — not resembling any piece of water that Malcolm at least had ever seen. More than a mile in length, but quite narrow, it lay on the seashore — a lake of deep, fresh water, with nothing between it and the sea but a bank of sand up which the great waves came rolling in south-westerly winds, one now and then toppling over, to the disconcerting, no doubt, of the pikey multitude within. The head only of the mere came into Clementina's property, and they sat on the landward side of it, on a sandy bank, among the half-exposed roots of a few ancient firs, where a little stream that fed the lake had made a small gully, and was now trotting over a bed of pebbles in the bottom of it Clementina was describing to Florimel the peculiarities of the place — how there was no outlet to the lake, how the water went filtering through the sand into the sea, how in some parts it was very deep, and what large pike there were in it. Malcolm sat a little aside, as usual, with his face toward the ladies and the book open in his hand waiting a sign to begin, but looking at the lake, which here was some fifty yards broad, reedy at the edge, dark and deep in the centre. All at once he sprang to his feet dropping the book, ran down to the brink of the water, undoing his buckled belt and pulling off his coat as he ran, threw himself over the bordering reeds into the pool, and disappeared with a great splash. Clementina gave a scream and started up with distraction in her face she made no doubt that in the sudden ripeness of his insanity he had committed suicide. But Florimel, though startled by her friend's cry, laughed, and crowded out assurances that Malcolm knew well enough what he was about. It was longer, however, than even she found pleasant before a black head appeared — yards away, for he had risen at a great slope, swimming toward the other side. What could he be after? Near the middle he swam more sottly, and almost stopped. Then first they spied a small dark object on the surface. Almost at the same moment it rose into the air. They thought Malcolm had flung it up. Instantly they perceived that it was a bird, a swift. Somehow, it had dropped into the water, but a lift from Malcolm's hand had restored it to the air of its bliss.
But instead of turning and swimming back Malcolm held on, and getting out on - the farther side ran down the beach and rushed into the sea, rousing once more the apprehensions of Clementina. The shore sloped rapidly, and in a moment he was in deep water. He swam a few yards out, swam ashore again, ran round the end of the lake, found his coat, and got from it his pocket-handkerchief. Having therewith dried his hands and face he wrung out the sleeves of his shirt a little, put on his coat, returned to his place, and said, as he took up the book and sat down, "I beg your pardon, my ladies; but just as I heard my lady Clementina say pikes, I saw the little swift in the water. There was no time to lose: Swiftie had but a poor chance." As he spoke he proceeded to find the place in the book.
"You don't imagine we are going to
