"Aw, God, that was a fine thing!" cried the Gillie Ciotach, with a loud laugh that led Mary to suspect he must have had a glass, or even two, before coming along. "Aw, it was a fine thing, that! And Miss Stanley has only to send us word, as she did before, and we’ll drive the squatters into the sea—them and their traps, and their huts, ahltogether into the sea! Never mind where they settle!—you send to me, mem, and we will drive the duvvles into the sea, and let them tek their chance of swimming the Minch!——" "But what do you mean?" she said, angrily. "What word did I send you? Do you imagine I authorized those mad and cruel proceedings? I bade Big Archie tell those men what the Fishery Board had said—that they had no right there; I did not ask you to drive the poor men out with sticks and stones, and set fire to their huts with petroleum. I don’t want any such on-goings: why, it is monstrous that the people should take the law into their own hands, and get the neighbourhood a bad name for rioting." "It’s the God’s truth, mem, and many’s the time I was telling them that," said the Gillie Ciotach, solemnly. "But ye see, mem, there’s some wild duvvles about here; and they’re neither to hold nor to bind; but I’ll tell them what Miss Stanley says, that there’s to be no more fighting; and if a man is determined to fight, then we’ll chist fell him with a chair, and fling him below the table until he gets sober. It’s a peaceable neighbourhood: why should there be any fighting in it?—but for these duvvles!——" "I am glad you think so," said Mary, very gratefully. "And then there’s another thing—the poaching. Now, is it fair? I ask you if it is fair——" "It’s a b——y shame!" said the Gillie Ciotach to himself, as he bent his head to sip a little more whiskey. "Because look what I am doing, Andrew," she went on, probably not having heard the penitent exclamation. "I want you to understand. I am having the ground shot over, moderately, by the keepers, and the game sent to Inverness and sold there to pay wages, and the cost of the kennels, and so on; and in that way I can afford to keep the gillies in employment. And I do think it is hardly fair that there should be poaching. _I_ get no good out of the game—except a bird or two now and again for the house, or a brace or two to send away. Of course, I don’t believe that there is very much poaching—for the keepers know their business too well; but it is disgraceful there should be any——"