of indolence, and not of timidity, fired at this insolence, and he answered: “You are a very ignorant and impertinent fellow. I consider my daughter and family disgraced by a connection with a strolling adventurer.” “Do you know,” said the other, loudly, “whom you are talking to, you silly old fool?” “Old I am,” replied the laird, “but not so old as to bear an insult from a low scoundrel. So, sir, leave this room instantly. I shall take care of my unfortunate daughter, but for you, a single shilling of mine shall never pass through your hands again.” “O, I see,” said O’Rourke, “it is all as I suspected, that old villain, colonel Hamilton, has for his own purposes been working on your poor weak head.” Etterick, incensed at this, proceeded to such violence as his feebleness would admit; and the fellow, with unmanly rage exerting his strength, pushed the old man against the wall, and he was severely bruised. The noise brought our hero into the room. “Heaven,” said he, “what’s the meaning of all this?” “’Tis the old fool’s own fault;” said O’Rourke; “he’s let me into some of your tricks, but you won’t cheat me.” “Tricks, and cheat!” said our hero, breasting the other. “Be easy now,” said O’Rourke, “or by Jasus I’ll throw you down by the old one there. I say your father and you have been acting like villains.” To such a charge Hamilton could only make one answer, which he instantaneously did by a blow, that drove the preacher to the farther end of the room; and, before he could recollect himself, followed it with a second, which hitting his temples levelled him with the ground. The whole family was alarmed, the colonel and even the old clergyman could not help approving William’s conduct. Meanwhile the reverend missionary recovered, and was blustering and threatening vengeance upon his antagonist, when the old clergyman interposed, and William called that if he would follow him to the green he would give him all the satisfaction he could take. O’Rourke, though very strong, was not much addicted to fighting, unless he considered his adversary much his under match, and could have dispensed with this invitation: hoping, however, to intimidate his opponent by a display of his size and muscles, (an artifice which had frequently succeeded in former rencounters,) he went down and stripped. Our hero was not slow in imitating his example; and old Maxwell, who was present, exultingly swore, that young Mr Hamilton was the more muscular man of the two. The conflict began; our hero, who was really somewhat superior to his adversary in strength and activity, was far before him in cool intrepidity and skill. The Irishman, wild and furious, struck at random; the Englishman, parrying his blows, reserved his own efforts, only irritating the savage impetuosity of the other by fetching blood. When the preacher was exhausted by ill-directed exertions, Hamilton began with such tremendous force, that his adversary, who had little