Falconer forgot himself for a moment, and made a stride forward.
'Dinna hit him, Robert,' cried Shargar. 'He ance gae me a shillin',
an' it helpit, as ye ken, to haud me alive to face him this day.--No
liar, my lord, but a bastard, thank heaven.' Then, with a laugh, he
instantly added, 'Gin I had been ain brither to you, my lord, God
only knows what a rascal I micht hae been.'
'By God, you shall answer for your damned insolence,' said the
marquis, and, lifting his riding-whip from the table where he had
laid it, he approached his brother.
Mysie rang the bell.
'Haud yer han', Sandy,' cried Shargar. 'I hae faced mair fearsome
foes than you. But I hae some faimily-feelin', though ye hae nane:
I wadna willin'ly strike my brither.'
As he spoke, he retreated a little. The marquis came on with raised
whip. But Falconer stepped between, laid one of his great hands on
the marquis's chest, and flung him to the other end of the room,
where he fell over an ottoman. The same moment the servant entered.
'Ask your mistress to oblige me by coming to the drawing-room,' said
Mysie.
The marquis had risen, but had not recovered his presence of mind
when Lady Janet entered. She looked inquiringly from one to the
other.
'Please, Lady Janet, will you ask the Marquis of Boarshead to leave
the house,' said Mysie.
'With all my hert,' answered Lady Janet; 'and the mair that he's a
kin' o' a cousin o' my ain. Gang yer wa's, Sandy.
Pages:
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639