"What am I here for, Annie! Are you not my clanswoman! Is not
Lachlan my foster-brother!—He will trouble you no more, I think."
As Alister walked home, he met Sercombe, and after a greeting not very cordial on either side, said thus:
"I should be obliged to you, Mr. Sercombe, if you would send for anything you want, instead of going to the shop yourself. Annie Macruadh is not the sort of girl you may have found in such a position, and you would not wish to make her uncomfortable!"
Sercombe was, ashamed, I think; for the refuge of the fool when dissatisfied with himself, is offence with his neighbour, and Sercombe was angry.
"Are you her father—or her lover?" he said.
"She has a right to my protection—and claims it," rejoined Alister quietly.
"Protection! Oh!—What the devil would you protect her from?"
"From you, Mr. Sercombe."
"Protect her, then."
"I will. Force yourself on that young woman's notice again, and you will have to do with me."