'You consider the matter too lightly,' said Megret with great earnestness. 'I myself hoped and doubted long, and left unemployed the means at my command for banishing that bad man. I was indeed thereto prompted by that miserable vanity which induces a man to wish to conquer by his own merits and to scorn the use of other weapons. But the real state of affairs is now placed in so clear a light that my eyes are pained by it. This Mac Donalbain is a monster, and Christine loves him. Forbearance would now be madness, as the honor and happiness of this house hang upon a hair.' 'And what would you do?' anxiously asked Arwed. 'That shall you directly hear,' answered Megret; 'for there, most opportunely, comes the Scot. His destiny leads him towards me. May I only gain sufficient composure to roast the villain _à petit feu_, as we call it. It would yet be some little satisfaction for the constant torments of jealousy for which I may thank him since I first sighed for the countess.' 'Megret turned away and proceeded some steps down the avenue, and on his return all traits of anger had disappeared from his face, and a cold, smooth smile was substituted. Meanwhile the Scot approached and courteously greeted them. 'You come just in time, sir Mac Donalbain,' said Megret in an apparently friendly manner, 'to enlighten me upon a matter of some interest. According to your name and your own assurance you are indeed a Scot, and can give us information from the best sources relative to the manners and customs of your dear fatherland.' 'Why not!' asked the Scot with a forced smile. 'Now will you please to inform me, worthy sir,' said Megret, familiarly approaching him, 'what, in your highlands, is the exact meaning of the term, 'children of the mist?' Starting and shrinking at this question, Mac Donalbain answered only with a deadly glance. 'They also call them 'children of night,' added Megret in a quiet and seemingly friendly manner. 'The terms are said to apply to those poor people who, at variance with the civil authorities, shelter themselves in rocks and caves, occasionally making excursions into the lowlands, plundering and burning dwellings, driving off cattle, now and then perpetrating a murder, and getting hanged at last.' 'You speak of the robber clans of the highlands,' said Mac Donalbain, struggling to preserve his equanimity.