"And who may you be, sir, that have been so desirous to see me?" he asked, haughtily. "I am Roderick MacNeil of Barra," replied the other, on which Rob saluted him by uncovering his head; for the MacNeils of Barra were an old family in the Western Isles, famous for their antiquity--which dated back to the days of the first Scottish settlers--for their valour, and for their vanity: thus one of them, named Rory the Turbulent, who lived in the days of James VI., in the vastness of his Highland bombast, had a herald who proclaimed, in Gaelic, daily, from the summit of his castle,-- "Hear ye people, and listen all ye nations! MacNeil of Barra having finished his dinner, all the kings and princes of the earth have liberty to dine." The chief who now confronted Rob Roy was considered one of the best swordsmen in Scotland; and certainly he was the first in his native Hebrides. He was possessed of a high spirit, with a romantic love of adventure. He had heard of Rob Roy's skill in the use of his weapons and his renown in arms; so he determined with his own hands to pub his skill and valour to the test. "And so," said he, while surveying him from head to foot, "you are Rob Roy MacGregor, whom I have so long wished to meet." "For what purpose?" asked the other, haughtily; "I never saw you before, MacNeil, and by your bearing I care little if I never see you again." "I have heard much of your fame, MacGregor, and I have come hither--I, Roderick MacNeil of Barra--to prove myself a better swordsman than you!" At these words he leaped from his horse, tossed the bridle to one of his gillies, and drew his sword and dirk. "Roderick MacNeil," said Rob, calmly, "I have no doubt of your being what you assert--the Chief of Barra, and of a noble and ancient lineage; a better swordsman, and it may be a better man, than I; but I have no wish to prove it. My business is with Invernentie here, and I never fight a man without a reason. With you I have no quarrel; so keep your sword for the service of Scotland and her king." "I do so keep my sword; but you must fight me, nevertheless," said the other, imperiously. "Fie, sir!" replied Rob, whose temper was rising; "this is a bad trade you have taken to." "Trade?" "Dioul, yes!--molesting honest people on the open highway." "Truly the taunt comes well from you--you, who have kept the whole Highland border in hot water since Dundee fell at Rin Ruari!" On the face of MacLaren of Invernentie there was a malicious smile, which compelled Rob to seem calm; for he feared that if he fell in this impending conflict, his nephew's interest would infallibly suffer by the wiles and roguery of Invernentie and Killearn, especially if aided by the bad influence of Athole and Montrose. "Barra," said he, "I never draw my sword without a just cause of quarrel. Go your way in peace, and leave me to pursue mine." Then Barra is recorded to have taunted him by saying,-- "_You are afraid--your valour is in words._"