"So you did not climb Jedkè after all!" remarked Errington laughingly, as they seated themselves at the breakfast table.
"My friend, what would you!" cried Duprèz. "I have not said that I will climb it; no! I never say that I will do anything, because I'm not sure of myself. How can I be? It is that cher enfant, Lorimer, that said such brave words! See! . . . we arrive; we behold the shore--all black, great, vast! . . . rocks like needles, and, higher than all, this most fierce Jedkè--bah! what a name!--straight as the spire of a cathedral. One must be a fly to crawl up it, and we, we are not flies--ma foi! no! Lorimer, he laugh, he yawn--so! He say, 'not for me to-day; I very much thank you!' And then, we watch the sun. Ah! that was grand, glorious, beautiful!" And Duprèz kissed the tips of his fingers in ecstacy.
"What did you think about it, Sandy?" asked Sir Philip.
"I didna think much," responded Macfarlane, shortly. "It's no sae grand a sight as a sunset in Skye. And it's an uncanny business to see the sun losin' a' his poonctooality, and remainin' stock still, as it were, when it's his plain duty to set below the horizon. Mysel', I think it's been fair over-rated. It's unnatural an' oot o' the common, say what ye like."
"Of course it is," agreed Lorimer, who just then sauntered in from his cabin. "Nature is most unnatural. I always thought so. Tea for me, Phil, please; coffee wakes me up too suddenly. I say, what's the programme to-day?"
"Fishing in the Alten," answered Errington promptly.
"That suits me perfectly," said Lorimer, as he leisurely sipped his tea. "I'm an excellent fisher. I hold the line and generally forget to bait it. Then,--while it trails harmlessly in the water, I doze; thus both the fish and I are happy."
"And this evening," went on Errington, "we must return the minister's call. He's been to the yacht twice. We're bound to go out of common politeness."
"Spare us, good Lord!" groaned Lorimer.
"What a delightfully fat man is that good religious!" cried Duprèz. "A living proof of the healthiness of Norway!"
"He's not a native," put in Macfarlane; "he's frae Yorkshire. He's only been a matter of three months here, filling the place o' the settled meenister who's awa' for a change of air."