“Mercy on us!” said the traveller, “he rides like a Bedouin Arab! but in the desert there are neither trees to cross the road, nor cleughs, nor linns, nor floods, nor fords. Well, I must set to work myself, or this gear will get worse than even I can mend.—Here you, ostler, let me have your best pair of horses instantly to Shaws-Castle.”
“To Shaws-Castle, sir?” said the man, with some surprise.
“Yes—do you not know such a place?”
“In troth, sir, sae few company go there, except on the great ball day, that we have had time to forget the road to it—but St. Ronan's was here even now, sir.”
“Ay, what of that?—he has ridden on to get supper ready—so, turn out without loss of time.”
“At your pleasure, sir,” said the fellow, and called to the postilion accordingly.
CHAPTER XVI.
DEBATE.
Sedet post equitem atra cura——