"No, by Jove! I took a little care of that! If he had, I would have broke every bone in his body!"
"Why did you strike him then?"
"Because he rushed at me."
"It was his duty to capture a poacher!—But you did not know he was deaf and dumb!" Alister added, as some excuse.
"The deaf makes no difference!" protested Rob. "Hector of the
Stags does not fight with his hands like a woman!"
"Well, what's done is done!" laughed Sercombe. "It wasn't a bad shot anyhow!"
"You have little to plume yourself upon, Mr. Sercombe!" said the chief. "You are a good shot, but you need not have been so frightened at an old man as to knock him down!"
"Come, come, Macruadh! enough's enough! It's time to drop this!" returned Sercombe. "I can't stand much more of it!—Take ten pounds for the head!—Come!"
The chief made one great stride towards him, but turned away, and said,
"Come along, Rob! Tell your father you must not go up the hill again to-night."