hame again, to the tune of
Dumbarton drums; for ye are ganging to have nae speech of Maister Tirl,
or ony lodger of mine."

"And wherefore not?" demanded the veteran; "and is this of your own
foolish head, honest woman, or has your lodger left such orders?"

"Maybe he has and maybe no," answered Meg, sturdily; "and I ken nae mair
right that ye suld ca' me honest woman, than I have to ca' you honest
man, whilk is as far frae my thoughts as it wad be from heaven's truth."

"The woman is deleerit!" said Captain MacTurk; "but coom, coom--a
gentleman is not to be misused in this way when he comes on a
gentleman's business; so make you a bit room on the door-stane, that I
may pass by you, or I will make room for myself, by Cot! to your small
pleasure."

And so saying he assumed the air of a man who was about to make good his
passage. But Meg, without deigning farther reply, flourished around her
head the hearth-broom, which she had been employing to its more
legitimate purpose, when disturbed in her housewifery by Captain
MacTurk.

"I ken your errand weel eneugh, Captain--and I ken yoursell. Ye are ane
of the folk that gang about yonder setting folk by the lugs, as callants
set their collies to fight. But ye sall come to nae lodger o' mine, let
a-be Maister Tirl, wi' ony sic ungodly errand; for I am ane that will
keep God's peace and the King's within my dwelling."

So saying, and in explicit token of her peaceable intentions, she again
flourished her broom.

The veteran instinctively threw himself under Saint George's guard, and
drew two paces back, exclaiming, "That the woman was either mad, or as
drunk as whisky could make her;" an alternative which afforded Meg so
little satisfaction, that she fairly rushed on her retiring adversary,
and began to use her weapon to fell purpose.

"Me drunk, ye scandalous blackguard!" (a blow with the broom interposed
as parenthesis,) "me, that am fasting from all but sin and bohea!"
(another whack.)

The Captain, swearing, exclaiming, and parrying, caught the blows as
they fell, showing much dexterity in single-stick. The people began to
gather; and how long his gallantry might have maintained itself against
the spirit of self-defence and revenge, must be left uncertain, for the
arrival of Tyrrel, returned from a short walk, put a period to the
contest.

Meg, who had a great respect for her guest, began to feel ashamed of her
own violence, and slunk into the house; observing,