CHAPTER XIV.
IT was an hour later; the natives of the New Town had left the pier, and were about their own doors, when three Buckhaven fishermen came slowly up from the pier; these men had arrived in one of their large fishing-boats, which defy all weather.
The men came slowly up; their petticoat trousers were drenched, and their neck-handkerchiefs and hair were wet with spray.
At the foot of the New Town they stood still and whispered to each other.
There was something about these men that drew the eye of Newhaven upon them.
In the first place a Buckhaven man rarely communicates with natives of Newhaven, except at the pier, where he brings in his cod and ling from the deep sea, flings them out like stones, and sells them to the fishwives; then up sail and away for Fifeshire.
But these men evidently came ashore to speak to some one in the town.
They whispered together; something appeared to be proposed and demurred to; but at last two went slowly back toward the pier, and the eldest remained, with a fisherman's long mackintosh coat in his hand which the others had given him as they left him.
With this in his hand, the Buckhaven fisherman stood in an irresolute posture; he looked down, and seemed to ask himself what course he should take.
"What's wrang ?" said Jean Carnie, who, with her neighbors, had observed the men; "I wish yon man may na hae ill news." "What ill news wad he hae ?" replied another.
"Are ony freends of Liston Carnie here ?" said the fisherman.
"The wife's awa' to Granton, Beeny Liston they ca' her--there's his house," added Jean, pointing up the row.
"Ay," said the fisherman, "I ken he lived there." "Lived there!" cried Christie Johnstone.

"Oh, what's this ?" "Freends," said the man, gravely, "his boat is driving keel uppermost in Kircauldy Bay.

We passed her near enough to read the name upon her." "But the men will have won to shore, please God ?" The fisherman shook his head.
"She'll hae coupit a mile wast Inch Keith, an' the tide rinning aff the island an' a heavy sea gaun.

This is a' Newhaven we'll see of them" _( holding up the coat)_ "till they rise to the top in three weeks' time." The man then took the coat, which was now seen to be drenched with water, and hung it up on a line not very far from its unfortunate owner's house.

Then, in the same grave and subdued tone in which he had spoken all along, he said, "We are sorry to bring siccan a tale into your toon," and slowly moved off to rejoin his comrades, who had waited for him at no great distance.