“Poof!” said Ian, “how could you prevent us?”
“By rousing the man to defend himself,” said the father rather unguardedly.
“Ha! say you so?” cried Ian. “What! would you rouse up an armed man to fight against your own children? Then must we take means to prevent your so doing.”
“Oh, Ian!” cried the old woman. “Oh, Hamish! Oh, boys! boys!”
“What! what! what boys!” cried the old man with great excitement, whilst there was a sound of feet as of a struggle. “Would you lay your impious hands upon your own father?”
“Oh, don’t hurt poor granny!” cried the little girl, in the bitterest tone of grief.
“Be quiet, I tell you, Kirstock!” cried Ian, in an angry tone. “Hold out of my way, mother! We’ll do him no harm! we are only going to bind him that he may not interfere.”
“Boys, boys!” cried the old man; “you have been tempted by the Devil! There is no wonder that you should have seen him once to-night; and I should not wonder if he was to appear to you again, for you seem resolved to be his children, and not mine.”
“Sit down—sit down quietly in this chair,” said Ian; “sit down, I say quietly, and let MacCallum put the rope about you. By the great oath you had better!”
“Oh, boys!” cried the old woman; “Och, Hamish! Och, Ian.”