But meantime we must return to the
commencement of the interview.

"Ony mair Greek, laddie?" asked Mr Cupples.

"No, thank you, sir," answered Alec. "I only came to see you. You told
me to come again to-night."

"Did I? Well, it may stand. But I protest against being made
accountable for anything that fellow Cupples may choose to say when I'm
not at home."

Here he emptied his glass of toddy, and filled it again from the
tumbler.

"Shall I go away?" asked Alec, half bewildered.

"No, no; sit still. You're a good sort of innocent, I think. I won't
give you any toddy though. You needn't look so greedy at it."

"I don't want any toddy, sir. I never drank a tumbler in my life."

"For God's sake," exclaimed Mr Cupples, with sudden energy, leaning
forward in his chair, his blue eyes flashing on Alec--"for God's sake,
never drink a drop.--Rainbows. Rainbows."

These last two words were spoken after a pause, and in a tone of
sadness. Alec thought he was drunk again, and half rose to go.

"Dinna gang yet," said Mr Cupples, authoritatively. "Ye come at yer ain
will: ye maun gang at mine.--Gin I cud but get a kick at that fellow
Cupples! But I declare I canna help it. Gin I war God, I wad cure him
o' drink. It's the verra first thing I wad do."

Alec could not help being shocked at the irreverence of the words. But
the solemnity of Mr Cupples's face speedily dissipated the feeling.
Suddenly changing his tone, he went on:

"What's your name?"

"Alec Forbes."

"Alec Forbes. I'll try to remember it. I seldom remember anybody's
name, though. I sometimes forget my own. What was the fellow's name you
thrashed the other day?"

"Patrick Beauchamp. I did not mention it before."

"The deevil it was!" exclaimed Mr Cupples, half-starting from his seat.
"Did ye gie him a _richt_ thrashin'?"

"I think he had the worst of it. He gave in, any way."

"He comes of a bad lot! I know all about them. They're from Strathspey,
where my father came from--at least his father was. If the young fellow
turns out well, it'll be a wonder. I'll tell you all about them."

Mr Cupples here launched into a somewhat discursive account of Patrick
Beauchamp's antecedents, indicating by its minuteness that there must
have been personal relations of some kind between them or their
families. Perhaps he glanced at something of the sort when he said that
old Beauchamp was a hard man even for a lawyer. I will condense the
story from the more diffuse