explosion.

"How do ye make that out?" said Gourlay, still very quietly, lest he
should alienate the quarry laird.

"Damned fine do I make that out," yelled Templandmuir, and louder than
ever was the yell. He was the brave man now, with his bellow to hearten
him. "Damned fine do I make that out. You charged me for a whole day,
though half o't was spent upon your own concerns. I'm tired o' you and
your cheatry. You've made a braw penny out o' me in your time. But curse
me if I endure it loanger. I give you notice this verra night that your
tack o' the quarry must end at Martinmas."

He was off, glad to have it out and glad to escape the consequence,
leaving Gourlay a cauldron of wrath in the darkness. It was not merely
the material loss that maddened him. But for the first time in his life
he had taken a rebuff without a word or a blow in return. In his desire
to conciliate he had let Templandmuir get away unscathed. His blood
rocked him where he stood.

He walked blindly to the kitchen door, never knowing how he reached it.
It was locked--at this early hour!--and the simple inconvenience let
loose the fury of his wrath. He struck the door with his clenched fist
till the blood streamed on his knuckles.

It was Mrs. Gourlay who opened the door to him. She started back before
his awful eyes.

"John!" she cried, "what's wrong wi' ye?"

The sight of the she-tatterdemalion there before him, whom he had
endured so long and must endure for ever, was the crowning burden of his
night. Damn her, why didn't she get out of the way? why did she stand
there in her dirt and ask silly questions? He struck her on the bosom
with his great fist, and sent her spinning on the dirty table.

She rose from among the broken dishes and came towards him, with slack
lips and great startled eyes. "John," she panted, like a pitiful
frightened child, "what have I been doing?... Man, what did you hit me
for?"

He gaped at her with hanging jaw. He knew he was a brute--knew she had
done nothing to-night more than she had ever done--knew he had vented on
her a wrath that should have burst on others. But his mind was at a
stick; how could he explain--to _her_? He gaped and glowered for a
speechless moment, then turned on his heel and went into the parlour,
slamming the door till the windows rattled in their frames.

She stared after him a while in large-eyed stupor, then flung herself in
her old nursing-chair by the fire, and spat blood in the