five o'clock
`` Well , well , my lad , we 'll see , '' said his lordship kindly and turning once more , he resumed his walk . `` At yer lordship 's will , '' answered Malcolm in a low voice as he lifted his bonnet and again bent to the swivel . The next morning , he was rowing slowly along in the bay , when he was startled by the sound of his grandfather 's pipes , wafted clear and shrill on a breath of southern wind , from the top of the town . He looked at his watch : it was not yet five o'clock . The expectation of a summons to play at Lossie House , had so excited the old man 's brain that he had waked long before his usual time , and Portlossie must wake also . The worst of it was , that he had already , as Malcolm knew from the direction of the sound , almost reached the end of his beat , and must even now be expecting the report of the swivel , until he heard which he would not cease playing , so long as there was a breath in his body . Pulling , therefore , with all his might , Malcolm soon ran his boat ashore , and in another instant the sharp yell of the swivel rang among the rocks of the promontory .