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The chief of Clanruadh carrying his game-bag for a Sasunnach fellow to earn a shilling! the idea had a touch of humorous consolation in it. I will not assert the consolation strong enough to cast quite out a certain feeling of shame that mingled with his amusement a shame which is it not odd! he would not have felt had his sporan been full of sovereigns.
"See you not my property lying to the hand of the thief? Know you not that the greedy Sasunnach will sweep everything away!" "I can't carry them and you too, Mistress Conal!" said the chief gayly. "Set me down then. Who ever asked you to carry me! And where would you be carrying me? My place is with my things!" "Your place is with me, Mistress Conal!
He did not doubt, yet could hardly allow he believed, that Ian, his oracle, had in verity told him to send the antlers of his cabrach mor, the late live type of his ancient crest, the pride of Clanruadh, to the vile fellow of a Sasunnach who had sent out into the deep the joyous soul of the fierce, bare mountains.
He had taken the shilling, and must carry the bag, but did not feel bound to personal attendance. At the same time he could not deny there was reason in the man's unwillingness to trust him. What had he about him to give him in pledge? He must yield to his employer, moderate his pace, and move side by side with the Sasunnach! Again they walked some distance in silence.
He shall he buried where he lies, and his monument shall tell how the stranger Sasunnach served the stag of Clanruadh!" "Why the deuce didn't you keep the precious monster in a paddock, and let people know him for a tame animal?" sneered Sercombe. "My poor Euadh!" said the chief; "he was no tame animal! He as well as I would have preferred the death you have given him to such a fate.
He died fighting for his country; and for his sake the voice of man's love has never again entered my heart! I knew a true man, and could be true also. Would to God I were with him! You man-trapping, land-reaving, house-burning Sasunnach, do your worst! I care not." She ceased, and the spell was broken. "Come, come!" said one of the men impatiently.
Sercombe met him with a blow straight from the shoulder, and he dropped. Rob of the Angels, close behind him, threw down the gun. The devil all but got into Rob of the Angels. His knife flashed pale in the moonlight, and he darted on the Sasunnach.
Hector stood with his arm on Rob's shoulder, and the tears rolling down his cheeks. He would not have wept but that the sobs of his son shook him. "Rob of the Angels," Alister said in their mother-tongue, "you must make an apology to the Sasunnach gentleman for drawing the knife on him. That was wrong, if he had killed all the deer in Benruadh."
"This is no doubt very interesting to you, but it is rather a bore to one who can neither see you, nor understand a word you say." "Is the gentleman a friend of yours, Alister?" asked Ian. "Not exactly. But he is a Sasunnach," he concluded in English, "and we ought not to be speaking Gaelic." "I beg his pardon," said Ian. "Will you introduce me?" "It is impossible; I do not know his name.
Macruadh; "but it was mere pride; for when I thought of your father, I knew he would have been pleased with Alister." "Then, mother, I am glad; and I don't care what Ian, or any Sasunnach under the sun, may think of me." "But you haven't told us," said Ian, "how the thing ended." "I said to the fellow," resumed Alister, "that I had my shearing to do, and hadn't the time to go with him.
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