rock, and a dirk in the Highlander's left hand gleamed ominously as it
reflected the glow from the fire in the middle of the room.

The exciseman had jumped to his feet at Donald's first outburst. But he
had underrated his man, and now it was too late. To attempt to draw a
pistol now would be fatal--that was a movement with which he should have
opened the affair. The exciseman was disposed to try bluster; but
bluster does not always win a trick in the game, more especially when
the ace of trumps, in the shape of a pistol, is held by the adversary.
In this instance, after a long glance at the Highlander, the gauger's
eyes wavered and fell; he swallowed hard in his throat once or twice,
and lost colour; and finally he sat down in the seat from which a
minute ago he had sprung full of fight. Then slowly, and almost as it
seemed, against his own volition, his hand went out and closed on the
whisky bottle. He helped himself largely, drank copiously, without
diluting too much with water, but still said never a word. Now his
colour came back a little, and he nibbled at the oatcake and cheese.
Then more whisky. Gradually the man became talkative--even laughed now
and then a trifle unsteadily. And all the time Donald kept on him a
watchful eye, and had him covered, giving him no opportunity to turn the
tables. For here the Highlander saw his chance. He had no wish to murder
the gauger, but, at any price, he was not going to be taken. If,
however, he kept the man a little longer in his present frame of mind,
it was very evident that presently the exciseman would be too tipsy to
do anything but go to sleep. And so it proved. From being merely
merry--in a fashion somewhat tempered by the ugly, threatening muzzle of
a pistol, he became almost friendly; from friendly he became aggrieved,
moaning over the insult that a breekless Highlander had put on him; then
the sentimental mood seized him, and he wept maudlin tears over the
ingratitude and neglect shown to him by his superior officers; finally,
in the attempt to sing a most dolorous song, he rolled off his seat and
lay on his back, snorting.

As soon as he had satisfied himself that the enemy was genuinely
helpless and not shamming, Donald promptly set about saving his own
property. The exciseman's horse still stood where his master had left
him, hitched to a rowan tree a few yards from the door. Him Donald
impressed into his service, and long before morning everything in the
hut