'Nevertheless, colonel, I do not understand,' answered Arwed with displeasure, 'why you confide all this to me, nor why you confide it now.'
'The new emergencies of the war call me back to the army,' said Megret. 'I set out even this very night. Meanwhile I wish to secure to myself here at least the statum quo. You love me not, major; that I very well know, but at any rate you are not my rival; you are Christine's near relative and a man of honor. Whatever you may think of me, we must agree in this, that Mac Donalbain is not deserving of your cousin.'
'That I am very willing to allow,' answered Arwed. 'But, I hope, there can never be a question of such a connection. Had Christine really a weakness for that man, so noble and strong a mind as hers would be easily reclaimed from such an aberration.'
'You consider the matter too lightly,' said Megret with great earnestness. 'I myself hoped and doubted long, and left unemployed the means at my command for banishing that bad man. I was indeed thereto prompted by that miserable vanity which induces a man to wish to conquer by his own merits and to scorn the use of other weapons. But the real state of affairs is now placed in so clear a light that my eyes are pained by it. This Mac Donalbain is a monster, and Christine loves him. Forbearance would now be madness, as the honor and happiness of this house hang upon a hair.'
'And what would you do?' anxiously asked Arwed.
'That shall you directly hear,' answered Megret; 'for there, most opportunely, comes the Scot. His destiny leads him towards me. May I only gain sufficient composure to roast the villain à petit feu, as we call it. It would yet be some little satisfaction for the constant torments of jealousy for which I may thank him since I first sighed for the countess.'
'Megret turned away and proceeded some steps down the avenue, and on his return all traits of anger had disappeared from his face, and a cold, smooth smile was substituted. Meanwhile the Scot approached and courteously greeted them.
'You come just in time, sir Mac Donalbain,' said Megret in an apparently friendly manner, 'to enlighten me upon a matter of some interest. According to your name and your own assurance you are indeed a Scot, and can give us information from the best sources relative to the manners and customs of your dear fatherland.'
'Why not!' asked the Scot with a forced smile.
'Now will you please to inform me, worthy sir,' said Megret, familiarly approaching him, 'what, in your highlands, is the exact meaning of the term, 'children of the mist?'