"What sort of talk is this?" she cried. "Have I no done my share, and sent Rob half-way to his death in order that you may snatch him back? Oh, I said you were no honest man!"
"Honest?" he snapped, with a bitter laugh. "Oh, you're right enough there. Heaven preserve me frae being called 'honest,' I'm no shopkeeper, madam."
"Ye were anxious enough about Rob's safety last night."
Muckle John ceased from glowering at the glen beneath them.
"The boy's safety go hang," he retorted. "Did ye think I cared two bawbees for that?"
"It has occurred to me that you promised," returned Miss Macpherson.
"Promised! What are promises between you and me?"
"Then Rob is to be left to his fate?"
"No."
"What do you mean?"