The disquiet of the ex-quartermaster was greatly increased on hearing of a _fracas_ so unseemly and so dangerous, and he knew in a moment that it contained _more_ elements of discord than Quentin admitted or perhaps knew; though he was ignorant of the Master's abrupt proposal, the garden-scene, and of the subsequent expostulation, which was in progress at that moment, and which we have detailed in the preceding chapter. "I can't blame you, my boy," said the old soldier, half communing with himself, and shaking his head till his pigtail swung like a pendulum; "I can't blame ye," he repeated, as he gave Quentin his arm, and together they walked slowly towards the castle; "ye are young--the temptation is great, though I hae long since forgotten all of such matters, save that love-making tendeth to mischief." "Quartermaster," stammered Quentin, "I don't understand, what----" "But I do! The devilment first began in Father Adam's garden, and it will go on so long as the world wags." Quentin coloured deeply, and his heart leaped with mingled rage and exultation--rage at the Master for the injury he had done him, and exultation for its cause--jealousy, by which he was assured that Flora loved him, despite all the attention and the greater attractions of the _blasé_ guardsman. But what was to be done now? To remain longer under the same roof with the Master of Rohallion was impossible; but whither was he to go? The quartermaster, without adverting further to what he too well knew to be the secret spring or moving cause of a quarrel so sudden and unbecoming in its details, hurried Quentin to his secluded little quarters, "the snuggery," already described as existing in a tower of the castle. There he gave him a glass of sherry and water as a reviver; sponged and cleansed, with ready and kindly hands, his face and hair from the clotted blood which disfigured them, applied with soldierlike promptitude a piece of court-plaster to the cut, and brushed a lock or so gently over to conceal it. That Lady Rohallion must be informed of the encounter and have it explained away, if possible; that the Master should be urged to apologise to Quentin (a very improbable hope); and that they should be made to shake hands and commit the affair to oblivion, was the mode in which the worthy ground-bailie proposed to solder up this untoward affair. Quentin was long inexorable, and with the fury of youth vowed to have some mysterious and terrible revenge; but gradually the inexpediency, the impropriety, and impossibility of obtaining reparation by the strong hand dawned upon him, and he consented to leave the matter in the hands of Girvan--to have it explained gently to Lady Rohallion, and leave her to be the mediator between them. On being informed by Jack Andrews that she was in the yellow drawing-room, and as there was still an hour to spare before the supper bell rang, they proceeded thither to have an interview with her.