"You see, Davie," resumed my uncle, as soon as he saw that I had done,
"I have a venture with this man Hoseason, the captain of a trading brig,
the Covenant, of Dysart. Now, if you and me was to walk over with
yon lad, I could see the captain at the Hawes, or maybe on board the
Covenant if there was papers to be signed; and so far from a loss of
time, we can jog on to the lawyer, Mr. Rankeillor's. After a' that's
come and gone, ye would be swier* to believe me upon my naked word; but
ye'll believe Rankeillor. He's factor to half the gentry in these parts;
an auld man, forby: highly respeckit, and he kenned your father."

* Unwilling.

I stood awhile and thought. I was going to some place of shipping, which
was doubtless populous, and where my uncle durst attempt no violence,
and, indeed, even the society of the cabin-boy so far protected me. Once
there, I believed I could force on the visit to the lawyer, even if my
uncle were now insincere in proposing it; and, perhaps, in the bottom
of my heart, I wished a nearer view of the sea and ships. You are to
remember I had lived all my life in the inland hills, and just two days
before had my first sight of the firth lying like a blue floor, and the
sailed ships moving on the face of it, no bigger than toys. One thing
with another, I made up my mind.

"Very well," says I, "let us go to the Ferry."

My uncle got into his hat and coat, and buckled an old rusty cutlass on;
and then we trod the fire out, locked the door, and set forth upon our
walk.