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           FornotonlyIknewnowordoftheGaelic;butwhatwiththelongsuspenseofthewaiting,andthescurryandstrainofourtwospirtsoffighting,andmorethanall,thehorrorIhadofsomeofmyownshareinit,thethingwasnosooneroverthanIwasgladtostaggertoaseat.TherewasthattightnessonmychestthatIcouldhardlybreathe;thethoughtofthetwomenIhadshotsatuponmelikeanightmare;andalluponasudden,andbeforeIhadaguessofwhatwascoming,Ibegantosobandcrylikeanychild.

           Alanclappedmyshoulder,andsaidIwasabraveladandwantednothingbutasleep.

           “I’lltakethefirstwatch,”saidhe.“Ye’vedonewellbyme,David,firstandlast;andIwouldn’tloseyouforallAppin—no,norforBreadalbane.”

           SoImadeupmybedonthefloor;andhetookthefirstspell,pistolinhandandswordonknee,threehoursbythecaptain’swatchuponthewall.Thenherousedmeup,andItookmyturnofthreehours;beforetheendofwhichitwasbroadday,andaveryquietmorning,withasmooth,rollingseathattossedtheshipandmadethebloodruntoandfroontheround-housefloor,andaheavyrainthatdrummedupontheroof.Allmywatchtherewasnothingstirring;andbythebangingofthehelm,Iknewtheyhadevennooneatthetiller.Indeed(asIlearnedafterwards)thereweresomanyofthemhurtordead,andtherestinsoillatemper,thatMr.RiachandthecaptainhadtotaketurnandturnlikeAlanandme,orthebrigmighthavegoneashoreandnobodythewiser