He was completely carried away by passion.
"The parzon, the parzon!" "Man alive, the young parzon!" the people muttered, and they closed around.
Dan stood a moment. He looked down from his great height at Ewan's quivering form and distorted face. Then he turned about and glanced into the faces of the people. In another instant his eyes were swimming in tears; he took a step toward Ewan, flung his arms about him, and buried his head in his neck, and the great stalwart lad wept like a little child. In another moment Ewan's passion was melted away, and he kissed Dan on the cheek.
"Blubbering cowards!" "Aw, blatherskites!" "Och, man alive, a pair of turtle-doves!"
Dan lifted his head and looked around, raised himself to his full height, clinched his fists, and said:
"Now, my lads, you did your best to make a fight, and you couldn't manage it. I won't fight my cousin, and he shan't fight me; but if there's a man among you would like to know for himself how much of a coward I am, let him step out—I'm ready."
Not a man budged an inch.