"The wind's to the east," he said. "I could wish I were beating down
the Forth in the _Loupin' Jean._ She was a trim bit boat for him that
could handle her."
"Man," I said, "what made you leave a clean job for the ravings of
yesterday?"
"I'm in the Lord's hands," he said humbly. "I'm but a penny whistle for
His breath to blow on." This he said with such solemnity that the
meaning of a fanatic was suddenly revealed to me. One or two distorted
notions, a wild imagination, and fierce passions, and there you have
the ingredients ready. But moments of sense must come, when the better
nature of the man revives. I had a thought that the clout he got on the
stone floor had done much to clear his wits.
"What will they do wi' me, think ye?" he asked. "This is the second
time I've fallen into the hands o' the Amalekites, and it's no likely
they'll let me off sae lightly."
"What will they do with us all?" said I. "The Plantations maybe, or the
Bass! It's a bonny creel you've landed me in, for I'm as innocent as a
newborn babe."
The notion of the Plantations seemed to comfort him. "I've been there
afore, once in the brig _John Rolfe_ o' Greenock, and once in the
_Luckpenny _o' Leith. It's a het land but a bonny, and full o' all
manner o' fruits.
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