"Good morning to you, Master John Burnet," said he. "I am overjoyed to see you again. I had hoped to have had a meeting with you in the past months among your own hills of Tweedside, but the chance was denied me. But better late than never. I bid you welcome."
I bowed. "I thank you," I said.
"I have another guest," said he, "whom you know. It is a fortunate chance that you should both be present. This old house of Eaglesham has not held so many folk for many a long day. May I ask when you arrived?" The man spoke all the while with great effort, and his eyes searched my face as though he would wrest from me my inmost thoughts.
"An end to this fooling, Gilbert," I said, quietly. "Marjory Veitch is no more in this house; with the escort of my servant she is on her road to Tweeddale. By this time she will be more than half-way there."
He sprang at me like a wild thing, his face suddenly inflaming with passion.
"You, you—" he cried, but no words could come. He could only stutter and gape, with murder staring from his visage.
As for me the passion in him roused in me a far greater.
"Yes," I cried, my voice rising so that I scarce knew it for mine. "You villain, liar, deceiver, murderer, by the living God, the time has now come for your deserts. You tortured my love and harassed her with hateful captivity; you slew her brother, your friend, slew him in his cups like the coward you are; you drove me from my house and lands; you made me crouch and hide in the hills like a fox, and hunted me with your hell-hounds; you lied and killed and tortured, but now I am free, and now you will find that I am your master. I have longed for this day, oh, for so long, and now you shall not escape me. Gilbert Burnet, this earth is wide, but it is not wide enough for you and me to live together. One or other of us shall never go from this place."
He made no answer but only looked me straight in the face, with a look from which the rage died by degrees. Then he spoke slowly and measuredly. "I think you are right, Cousin John," said he, "the world is too small for both of us. We must come to a settlement." And in his tone there was a spice of pity and regret. Then I knew that I had lied, and that this man was stronger than I.
For a little we stood looking across the table at each other. There was an extraordinary attraction in the man, and before the power of his keen eyes I felt my wits trembling. Then, with his hand, he motioned me to sit down. "The morning air is raw, Cousin John. It will be better to finish our meal," and he called to his servant to bring in breakfast.