“Weel, laddie?” said McCray, for the groom paused.
“Mr Norton turns round like a shot; and ‘one, two’—that’s the blow; and my lord goes over just like that sack—that’s the cut, sir!”
As he spoke, the groom rushed at the sack, and with one of his vigorous blows struck it right from the corn-bin to the ground.
“Gude, lad—gude, lad, and weel planted!” said McCray. “But noo, keep yer ain counsel, and put on yer duds, and come wi’ me.” Then, slowly making his way from the stable, McCray muttered: “And that accoonts for the poother.”
The Meeting.
When, pale and thoughtful, Lord Maudlaine strode across the lawn, his mind was agitated strangely by the feelings that oppressed him. He felt that matters had arrived at a pitch when, if he did not make some vigorous effort, he would lose even the partisanship of Sir Murray Gernon. The baronet’s language, and his dislike for the Norton family, were sufficient to insure his protection and favour, let what might befall; and with something of his old gamblers feelings, when about to make some grand coup, or when he was backing largely some horse in a desperate venture, he pressed on.
But his heart told him that never had he attempted so great a stroke as he meditated now.
He was in no wise surprised when, half an hour after, he met Isa returning from a ride, ready to answer his bow with a slight inclination of her head; but he was not weak enough to imagine that, when he turned and saw her looking back, it was for any other reason than to see the direction he would take.
Old experience told him what to do, if he wished to encounter Brace Norton; and taking a short cut, he found, as he expected, that the young man was sauntering along the lane in front; so that the Viscount had but to leap a gate, and wait a few minutes for his rival to come, slowly and thoughtfully, up to where he stood; when Brace gave quite a start, and then stopped short.