I could gain nothing more from the emigrants concerning “the gentleman” than I had already acquired, but only that, at the request of my messenger the preceding evening, they had consented to defer their journey till I came.

“He's a real queer man,” said my informant,—“what is he, or can he have been! In the whole tot of the voyage he never opened his mouth to old or young, but when by chance we had occasion to speak to him. I must say that no man could be more genteel than he was, the which is a sign that he's no void of discretion. In short, Sir, we begin to jealouse that he has been something in the diplomatics, or some other dainty trade, where the head works for the hands.”

“What does he intend?” said I, “have you never heard him speak even of that?”

“The Gude and himsel’ only ken; but I would guess that it canna be pleasant to be so kentspecle as he has made himself amongst us; we have a suspec that when he has gotten us landed on our ain mailings, he’ll be for making a leg bail job o’ ‘t; and, Sir, we canna afford to part with him sooner, for he has mair wit in his wee finger, than we ha’e in a’ our bouks. Sir, had ye complied with his offer it would ha’e been very profitable.”

“To you, no doubt,” said I. But at that moment Dungowan made a sign for me to draw near, and his mysterious friend parted from him, evidently intent on shunning me.