"Please yourself, MacGregor," replied the duke, with chilling _hauteur_; "but remember that I have good reason to be offended." "Offended!" echoed Rob, with surprise. "You have used me ill." "You got my letter from Carlisle by the hand of my most trusted kinsman, Greumoch?" asked Rob, hastily. "A gillie--a drover," sneered Montrose. "A _duinewassal_ of the Clan Alpine, James Grahame, name him as you will," said Rob Roy, becoming flushed with anger. "What is all this to me?" asked Montrose, haughtily. "Dioul!" exclaimed Rob, passionately; "did you not get my letter?" "I did." "Then it fully explained all." "It explained that being undersold in the southern markets, or something to that effect, you had parted with our cattle below prime cost." "Far below it, as I can assure your grace." "Well, MacGregor Campbell?" "'Sdeath! MacGregor only!" interrupted Rob, whose fury was fast rising, and he stamped his foot on the floor. "I decline to bear my share in this loss, and have insisted upon repayment of the _whole sum_ originally subscribed, with the interest due thereon." "You have insisted?" repeated Rob. "The affair is in the hand of my chamberlain," aaid the duke, evasively. "I am not now to learn the tricks of Highland drovers, and how your band of landless reivers and broken sorners, who drove those cattle south, are likely to serve me." The Duke made this offensive speech for the express purpose of working himself, and Rob too, into a passion. "Montrose," said the latter, sternly; "those whom you stigmatize as landless reivers and broken sorners are better men than ever inherited your blood, duke now though you be! And if this is the way you mean to treat me, by the Grey Stone in Glenfruin, and by the souls of those who died there, I shall not consider it _my_ interest to pay your interest, nor my interest either to pay even the principal!" "Dare you say this to me?" exclaimed the duke, flushing with real anger; "to me, under my own roof-tree?" MacGregor laughed, and patted the basket-hilt of his sword, put on his bonnet, and arose. Saying, "I would say something more if you stood on the open heather, under the canopy of heaven. But now let us understand each other; big words never scared MacGregor, and they are not likely to do so now. I have but £200 to offer you, and yours it should have been had you acted justly or generously; but now----" "You will keep it, of course?" "Ay, every God's-penny, and lay it out in the king's service." "What king?"