“What the devil—,” he cried—for nothing is so irritating to a horseman as to come near losing his seat, except perhaps to lose it altogether, and indignation against the cause of an untoward accident is generally a mortal’s first consciousness thereupon: however foolishly, he feels himself injured. But there, having better taken in Donal’s look, he checked himself.
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Donal. “It was foolish of me to show myself so suddenly; I might have thought it would startle most horses. I was too absorbed to have my wits about me.”
The gentleman lifted his hat.
“I beg your pardon in return,” he said with a smile which cleared every cloud from his face. “I took you for some one who had no business here; but I imagine you are the tutor at the castle, with as good a right as I have myself.”
“You guess well, sir.”
“Pardon me that I forget your name.”
“My name is Donal Grant,” returned Donal, with an accent on the my intending a wish to know in return that of the speaker.
“I am a Graeme,” answered the other, “one of the clan, and factor to the earl. Come and see where I live. My sister will be glad to make your acquaintance. We lead rather a lonely life here, and don’t see too many agreeable people.”
“You call this lonely, do you!” said Donal thoughtfully. “—It is a grand place, anyhow!”
“You are right—as you see it now. But wait till winter! Then perhaps you will change your impression a little.”