'But it is time we were moving,' said that personage. 'Come—you, sir, to whom I owe so much—what is your name?'
'Callum Dhu Mac Ian.'
'Ah, well; get into the rumble, and come with us to Glen Ora House, and you shall have lunch and a good bottle of wine with the butler.'
'I do not lunch, neither do I dine with lacqueys,' replied Callum, proudly.
'Whew! aw—I see—these Highland fellows are all alike. Clavering, have you any money about you?'
The captain handed his purse to the baronet, who took from it, and from his own, the gold they contained, and turning to Callum, said—
'My good fellow, here are fifteen sovereigns; but you will call on me at Glen Ora House, and bring your friend with you; new coats and shoes, &c., are at your service; but what the devil is the matter with you?'
'Monna, mon dioul! is it money you would offer me?' asked Callum, as he drew himself up with the air of an Indian king; 'so you value your life at fifteen dirty guineas?'
'How, fellow; do you really wish more?'
'More!' reiterated Callum, fiercely; 'I am a poor man, who, when I lie down at night, thank God that one other day is passed, though I know not where the food of to-morrow may come from. The hills teem with game, and the rivers are alive with fish; yet I dare neither shoot one nor net the other. But keep your gold, Sir Horace. Every coin of it is accursed, for it has come to you through the filthy hands of your factor, and every groat of it is stained by the sweat—the tears—the blood of the Highlanders of Glen Ora, from whom it has been extorted and torn by Ephraim Snaggs, that merciless and rapacious oppressor of the poor!'