“Innes is with me!” vociferated Oldbuck.
“Riston has no doubt!” shouted the Baronet.
“Truly, gentlemen,” said Lovel, “before you muster your forces and overwhelm me with authorities, I should like to know the word in dispute.”
“Benval” said both the disputants at once.
“Which signifies caput valli,” said Sir Arthur.
“The head of the wall,” echoed Oldbuck.
There was a deep pause.—“It is rather a narrow foundation to build a hypothesis upon,” observed the arbiter.
“Not a whit, not a whit,” said Oldbuck; “men fight best in a narrow ring—an inch is as good as a mile for a home-thrust.”
“It is decidedly Celtic,” said the Baronet; “every hill in the Highlands begins with Ben.”
“But what say you to Val, Sir Arthur; is it not decidedly the Saxon wall?”