“Aye. Ye’re right. And ‘tis to Barra and Canna we wish to return with all speed.”

He turned his attention back to Maxwell. “So, what is a MacNeil doing here, such a great distance from yer home?”

Maxwell tried to explain, but as the story wore on the old man’s eyelids began to droop.

“Can ye nay cut a long story short?” Davie interjected.

Maxwell cleared his throat. “We wish to return to the islands but we’ve lost our ship in a storm. We’re hoping to purchase a wee boat tae take us tae the isles. I was told ye might have one tae sell.”

Aileen rattled the coin in her purse at the mention of the word ‘sell’.

Auld Davie’s rheumy eyes opened wide. “Aye. I’ve a wee boat. I’ve nay sailed it fer a while, but my son-in-law takes it out now and again and keeps it seaworthy. He has his own boat and it would dae nae harm fer me tae sell. I ken the lad would be glad fer some coin in the family.”

“So, you can sell it tae us?” Maxwell failed to keep the desperation out of his voice.

The old man eyed Aileen’s purse. “Fer a fair price, lad. I’m an old man but I’ve nae lost me wits. Especially when I’m dealing with the likes of rogues and pirates.”

Aileen huffed an indignant breath. “We’ll pay ye well, Auld Davie. Dinnae fash.”

The canny old man responded with a hint of a grin. “What will ye offer?”

Maxwell stepped in. “We can pay ye nay more than half the gold in this purse.”

Aileen looked at him aghast at the offer. She was ready to spend the morning haggling, but Maxwell was set on a quick purchase. “I insist we see the wee boat before we spend so much as one coin. We’ve nay more than yer word she’s seaworthy. The sea is wide and oftentimes rough. We need a boat that’s bonny enough tae sail us safely home.”

Maxwell nodded, pleased with her practical approach. “Will ye come wi’ us to where yer boat is moored so we can inspect?”

Davie shook his head, reaching for his walking stick. “I dinnae walk too far these days, lad. I’ll get me daughter Sheonagh tae take ye down.” He bellowed, “Sheonagh!” and a pretty dark-haired lass clad in a plain brown kirtle and tunic appeared in the entrance to the cottage.

“What is it, Da?”

“This is Maxwell MacNeil.” The girl turned to Maxwell with a nod. “And this lass is Aileen McAlpin.” This garnered a smile directed at Aileen. “They wish tae pay me gold fer me weesailboat if she passes inspection. Can ye walk them tae the shore and show it tae them?”

“If ye can keep an eye on the two weans, Da. They’re both sleeping fer now.”

Auld Davie nodded. “Aye lass.” He collected his walking stick and hobbled over to the door.

“Now mind ye play fair.” He looked sternly at Maxwell. “Ye’ve offered half yer purse and I’ll nae accept less. There’s tae be nae haggling and settling fer less if ye dinnae care fer the look of the boat. She’s sound. She’ll sail ye tae the islands on a smooth sea.”

Sheonagh appeared, pulling her cloak across her shoulders. “Aye, Da. I’ll nae accept less.”

With Sheonagh in the lead, they retraced their steps back to the shore where, earlier, they’d seen a number of small craft moored.

“Here it is.”

The little boat appeared seaworthy enough. The bottom was dry. One or two planks on the hull had obvious patches but when these were examined closely, they appeared watertight.

“Unfurl the sail.” Aileen’s voice held a note of command that made Maxwell smile to himself. The pirate queen was planning to sail again.

Again, several patches were evident, but after Aileen had appraised them carefully, she declared they would not hamper the craft from flying ahead of the wind.

Once the inspection had been carried out, Maxwell was impatient for them to close the sale and be on their way. The sun had passed midday and there were but few hours of daylight remaining.

He turned his attention to the small bench lying athwart the boat, where one oar rested. “There’s but one oar?” His heart sank. Now they’d have to go in search of an oar. Something no sensible fisherman would be inclined to part with. The chances of them getting away were fading into the far blue distance.

Sheonagh obviously discerned his anxiety. She chuckled. “Dinnae fash, lad. As me Da said, he’s nae lost his wits. Without the oar the boat’s as good as useless, so he’s kept it at the cottage. If ye pay me the gold I’ll accompany ye back there where he’ll hand it tae ye.”

“Aye. I kent he was a canny old lad.” There was admiration in his voice and he made a mental note that if they found it necessary to go ashore, he’d make certain the oars were well-hidden. Then they set off for Auld Davie’s cottage once again.