I sat dazed and meditative. I was raw to many things, but I knew well that Gilbert was not the man to sit down under such an affront. He had shielded me for his own reasons, of which I guessed that family pride was not the least; but he would seek a meeting with all dispatch. And, in truth, I was not averse to it, for I had many accounts to settle with my dear cousin. I fell to thinking about the details of the matter. In all likelihood he would come on the Monday, for the Sabbath was a day of too strict propriety in this land as in my own, to allow of the settling of any such business. Well, come when he might, I should be ready; and I rose from the table, for the sooner I was back in Leyden, the better. I took farewell of my host, and he could not refrain from whispering in my ear at parting: "Jock, Jock, my man, ye’ve made a bonny mess o’t. Ye’ll hae to fecht for it, and see ye dae’t weel." Nicol was waiting at the gate with the horses, and, together, we turned on our homeward way. CHAPTER IV OUR ADVENTURE ON THE ALPHEN ROAD We rode in silence for maybe half a mile, while I turned over the events of the evening in my mind and tried to find some way out of the difficulties in which, by my own folly, I found myself placed. Nicol looked steadfastly before him and said never a word. By and by I found the desire for some one to speak with so overpowering that I up and asked him if he had heard aught of the events of the evening. "Ay, sir," said he, "I heard ye had some kind o’ stramash, but that was a’. I trust ye’re weel oot o’t." "Have you heard of my cousin Gilbert?" I asked. "The wastland lad wha used to come aboot the Barns? Oh, aye! I’ve heard o’ him." "I flung a glass at his face to-night," said I. "I hope, sir, that he flung anither at yoursel’?" he asked anxiously. "No. He swallowed the insult and left soon after. He is not the man to let me off so easily." "Whew," said Nicol, "but that’s bad. Wad ye mind, Laird, if I rode on afore ye?" "Why?" I asked. "Cousins and sodger-folk are kittle cattle," said he. "I wadna wonder noo but that Maister Gilbert were ahint a dyke. I’ve heard tell o’ some o’ his pliskies in his ain land, and he’s no the lad to let a midge stick in his throat." I drew up my horse angrily. "Nicol," I cried, "you are intolerable. My cousin is a gentleman of birth, and do you think he is the man to kill from a dyke-side? Fie on you, you have the notions of a common roost-robber." "Weel, away then, my lord," cries he. "So be it; but I’ve little faith in your Gilberts for a’ their gentrice. I ken their breed ower weel. But I maun ride afore ye, for there are some gey rough bits on the road, and I’m a wee bit mair sure in the saddle than yoursel, wi’ a’ respect to your lairdship." So the wilful fellow must needs ride before me, looking sharply to the right and left as though we were in far Muscovy instead of peaceful Holland.