sense of law and justice, and John Fleecebumpkin, the
bailiff, having acknowledged that he had exceeded his commission,
Wakefield saw nothing else for it than to collect his hungry and
disappointed charge, and drive them on to seek quarters elsewhere.
Robin Oig saw what had happened with regret, and hastened to offer
to his English friend to share with him the disputed possession. But
Wakefield's pride was severely hurt, and he answered disdainfully,
"Take it all man--take it all--never make two bites of a cherry--thou
canst talk over the gentry, and blear a plain man's eye--Out upon you,
man--I would not kiss any man's dirty latchets for leave to bake in
his oven."

Robin Oig, sorry but not surprised at his comrade's displeasure,
hastened to entreat his friend to wait but an hour till he had gone
to the Squire's house to receive payment for the cattle he had sold,
and he would come back and help him to drive the cattle into some
convenient place of rest, and explain to him the whole mistake they
had both of them fallen into. But the Englishman continued indignant:
"Thou hast been selling, hast thou? Ay, ay--thou is a cunning lad for
kenning the hours of bargaining. Go to the devil with thyself, for I
will ne'er see thy fause loon's visage again--thou should be ashamed
to look me in the face."

"I am ashamed to look no man in the face," said Robin Oig, something
moved; "and, moreover, I will look you in the face this blessed day,
if you will bide at the Clachan down yonder."

"Mayhap you had as well keep away," said his comrade; and turning his
back on his former friend, he collected his unwilling associates,
assisted by the bailiff, who took some real and some affected interest
in seeing Wakefield accommodated.

After spending some time in negotiating with more than one of the
neighbouring farmers, who could not, or would not, afford the
accommodation desired, Henry Wakefield, at last, and in his necessity,
accomplished his point by means of the landlord of the alehouse at which
Robin Oig and he had agreed to pass the night, when they first separated
from each other. Mine host was content to let him turn his cattle on a
piece of barren moor, at a price little less than the bailiff had asked
for the disputed enclosure; and the wretchedness of the pasture, as well
as the price paid for it, were set down as exaggerations of the breach
of faith and friendship of his Scottish crony. This turn of Wakefield's
passions w