"I am going to fetch the Macruadh," he whispered, and turning went out again.
He told the chief that at the word her face lighted up as with the rise of the moon.
One of the maids went and told her master that they had got a poacher in the kitchen.
Mr. Palmer's eyes lightened under his black brows when he saw the captive, whom he knew by sight and by report. His men told him the story their own way, never hinting a doubt as to whose was the land on which the deer had been killed.
"Where is the nearest magistrate?" he inquired with grand severity.
"The nearest is the Macruadh, sir!" answered a highlander who had come from work in the garden to see what was going on.
"I cannot apply to him; the fellow is one of his own men!"
"The Macruadh does what is just!" rejoined the man.
His master vouchsafed him no reply. He would not show his wrath against the chief: it would be undignified!
"Take him to the tool-house, and lock him up till I think what to do with him. Bring me the key."