Vara went on hastily to tell Cleg about the children—how well and how happy they were, how Gavin was twice the weight he had been, how Hugh Boy ran down the road each night to meet Muckle Alick, and how she was now able to keep herself, besides helping a little to support Hugh and Gavin also. Cleg stood sulkily scraping the earth with the toe of his boot. Kit Kennedy left them together, and was going off with the cows towards the byre. He had seen a tall, gaunt woman, who was not to be trifled with, walking through the courtyard, and he knew it was time to take the kye in. Vara stopped talking to Cleg somewhat quickly. For she also had seen Mistress McWalter. She walked away towards the farm. Cleg and Kit were left alone. Quick as lightning Cleg thrust his arm before Kit Kennedy's face. "Spit ower that!" he said. Kit hesitated and turned away. "I dinna want to fecht ye!" he said, for he knew what was meant. "Ye are feared!" said Cleg, tauntingly. Kit Kennedy executed the feat in hydraulics required of him. "After kye time," said he, "at the back o' the barn." Cleg nodded dourly. "I'll learn ye to let my lass alane!" said the town boy. "I dinna gie a button for your lass, or ony ither lass. Forbye there was nae ticket on her that I could see!" answered he of the country. "Aweel," said Cleg; "then I'll warm ye for sayin' that ye wadna gie a button for her. I'm gaun to lick ye at ony rate." "To fecht me, ye mean?" said Kit Kennedy, quietly. Thus was gage of battle offered and accepted betwixt Cleg Kelly and Kit Kennedy. ADVENTURE XLIV. CLEG RELAPSES INTO PAGANISM. The lists of Ashby were closed. The heralds and pursuivants did their devoirs, and the trumpets rang out a haughty peal. Or at least to that effect, as followeth: "Come on!" said Cleg Kelly. "Come on yoursel'!" said Kit Kennedy. "Ye're feared," cried the Knight of the City, making a hideous face. "Wha's feared?" replied the Knight of the Country, his fists twirling like Catherine wheels. The boys slowly revolved round one another. It was like the solar system, only on a somewhat smaller scale. For first of all their fists revolved separately round each other, then each combatant revolved on his own axis, and lastly, very slowly and in a dignified manner, they revolved round one another. All this happened in the cool of the evening, at the back of the barn at the farmhouse of Loch Spellanderie. It was after the kye had all been milked and Vara Kavannah was in the house clearing away the porridge dishes, while the mistress put the fretful children to bed with an accompanying chorus of scoldings, slappings, and wailings of the smitten. As the lads stood stripped for fight Cleg was a little taller than Kit Kennedy, and he had all the experience which comes of many previous combats. But then he was not, like Kit Kennedy, thrice armed, in the consciousness of the justice of his quarrel.