hould it be presuming?--Ye may
be the richer man, Mr. Osbaldistone, as is maist likely; and ye may be
the mair learned man, whilk I dispute not: but I reckon ye are neither a
prettier man nor a better gentleman than mysell--and it will be news to
me when I hear ye are as gude. And _dare_ too? Muckle daring there's
about it--I trow, here I stand, that hae slashed as het a haggis as ony
o' the twa o' ye, and thought nae muckle o' my morning's wark when it was
dune. If my foot were on the heather as it's on the causeway, or this
pickle gravel, that's little better, I hae been waur mistrysted than if I
were set to gie ye baith your ser'ing o't."

Rashleigh had by this time recovered his temper completely. "My kinsman,"
he said, "will acknowledge he forced this quarrel on me. It was none of
my seeking. I am glad we are interrupted before I chastised his
forwardness more severely."

"Are ye hurt, lad?" inquired Campbell of me, with some appearance of
interest.

"A very slight scratch," I answered, "which my kind cousin would not long
have boasted of had not you come between us."

"In troth, and that's true, Maister Rashleigh," said Campbell; "for the
cauld iron and your best bluid were like to hae become acquaint when I
mastered Mr. Frank's right hand. But never look like a sow playing upon a
trump for the luve of that, man--come and walk wi' me. I hae news to tell
ye, and ye'll cool and come to yourself, like MacGibbon's crowdy, when he
set it out at the window-bole."

"Pardon me, sir," said I. "Your intentions have seemed friendly to me on
more occasions than one; but I must not, and will not, quit sight of this
person until he yields up to me those means of doing justice to my
father's engagements, of which he has treacherously possessed himself."

"Ye're daft, man," replied Campbell; "it will serve ye naething to follow
us e'enow; ye hae just enow o' ae man--wad ye bring twa on your head, and
might bide quiet?"

"Twenty," I replied, "if it be necessary."

I laid my hand on Rashleigh's collar, who made no resistance, but said,
with a sort of scornful smile, "You hear him, MacGregor! he rushes on his
fate--will it be my fault if he falls into it?--The warrants are by this
time ready, and all is prepared."

The Scotchman was obviously embarrassed. He looked around, and before,
and behind him, and then said--"The ne'er a bit will I yield my consent
to his being ill-guided for standing up for the father that got him-