The voices of the chiefs awakened the women, but the countess still slept.
Aware that she would resist trusting herself to the waves again, Lord Mar desired that she might be moved on board without disturbing her.
This was readily done, the men having only to take up the extremities of the plaid on to the boat.

The earl received her head on his bosom.
All were then on board, the rowers struck their oars, and once more the little party found themselves launched upon the sea.
While they were yet midway between the isles, with a bright sun playing its sparkling beams upon the gently rippling waves, the countess, heaving a deep sigh, slowly opened her eyes.

All around glared with the light of day; she felt the motion of the boat, and raising her head, saw that she was again embarked on the treacherous element on which she had lately experienced so many terrors.

She grew deadly pale, and grasped her husband's hand.

"My dear Joanna," cried he, "be not alarmed, we are all safe." "And Sir William Wallace has left us ?" demanded she.
"No, madam," answered a voice from the steerage, "not till this party is safe at Bute do I quit it." She looked round with a grateful smile; "Ever generous! How could I for a moment doubt our preserver ?" Wallace bowed, but remained silent; and they passed calmly along till the vessel came in sight of a birling,** which, bounding over the waves, was presently so near the earl's, that the figures in each could be distinctly seen.