"'This,' said the other, clean carried wi' anger; and he struck him a ringing lick on the face.
"Gilbert went back a step, and (for his honour I say it) kept his wrath doun.
"'That's a pity,' says he; 'that was a bad action o' yours, Michael, as ye'll soon ken. I'll trouble ye to draw.'
"I hae felt vexed for mony folk in my life, but never for yin sae muckle as puir Maister Veitch. He reddened and stumbled and plucked his sword from its sheath. He was dazed wi' wine and drowsiness, but his enemy made nocht o' that.
"They crossed swirds and I watched them fall to. I was terrible feared, for I saw fine that the yin was as angry as a bull, the ither as helpless as a sheep. It was against a' decency to let sic a thing gang on, so I ran forrit and cried on them to stop. 'D'ye no see the man's fair helpless?' I cried out; but they never seemed to hear me, but went at it as hard as ever.
"At first baith fought nane sae bad, for baith were braw swordsmen, and even in sic a plight Michael's skill didna desert him. Gilbert, too, was quieter than was to be expectit. But of a sudden a wild fury seized him. 'I'll teach ye to speak ill o' me and my house,' he cried in a voice like thunder, and cam on like a storm o' hail.
"Michael fell back and tried to defend himsel'. But the puir lad was sae dazed and foundered that frae the first he had nae chance. His blade wabbled at every guaird, and he never risked a cut. It was just like a laddie gettin' his paiks frae a maister and keepin' off the clouts wi' yae airm.
"And then he let his sword drop, whether wi' weariness or no I canna tell, and stood glowrin' afore him. The Captain never stopped. I dinna think he ettled it, for when he began I think he didna mean mair than to punish him for his words. But now he lunged clean and true. Nae sword kept it aff, nae coat o' mail wardit it, but deep into Michael's breast it sank. Wi' yae groan he fell back, and the breath gaed frae his body.
"I could hardly contain mysel wi' rage and sorrow. At first I was for rinnin' forrit and throttlin' the man, but I got a glimpse o' his face, and that keepit me. It was dark as a thunder-clud, and regret and unquenched anger lookit oot o' his een.
"'This is a black business,' he says to himsel', 'a black damnable business. God knows I never meant to kill the fool.' And he began to walk up and down wi' his heid on his breast.