Ian laughed again, and right heartily. The chief was too angry to enter into the humour of the thing. "Upon my word, Ian, it is too bad of you! What ARE you laughing at? It would become you better to tell me what I am to do! Am I free to break the rascal's bones?" "Assuredly not, after that affair with the bag!" "Oh, damn the bag!--I beg your pardon, mother." "Am I to believe my ears, Alister?" "What does it matter, mother? What harm can it do the bag? I wished no evil to any creature!" "It was the more foolish." "I grant it, mother. But you don't know what a relief it is sometimes to swear a little!--You are quite wrong, Ian; it all comes of giving him the head!" "You wish you had not given it him?" "No!" growled Alister, as from a pent volcano. "You will break my ears, Alister!" cried the mother, unable to keep from laughing at the wrath in which he went straining through the room. "Think of it," insisted Ian: "a man like could not think otherwise without a revolution of his whole being to which the change of the leopard's spots would be nothing.--What you meant, after all, was not cordiality; it was only generosity; to which his response, his countercheck friendly, was an order for ten pounds!--All is right between you!" "Now, really, Ian, you must not go on teasing your elder brother so!" said the mother. Alister laughed, and ceased fuming. "But I must answer the brute!" he said. "What am I to say to him?" "That you are much obliged," replied Ian, "and will have the cheque framed and hung in the hall." "Come, come! no more of that!" "Well, then, let me answer the letter." "That is just what I wanted!" Ian sat down at his mother's table, and this is what he wrote. "Dear sir,--My brother desires me to return the cheque which you unhappily thought it right to send him. Humanity is subject to mistake, but I am sorry for the individual who could so misunderstand his courtesy. I have the honour to remain, sir, your obedient servant, Ian Macruadh." As Ian guessed, the matter had been openly discussed at the New House; and the money was sent with the approval of all except the two young ladies. They had seen the young men in circumstances more favourable to the understanding of them by ordinary people. "Why didn't the chief write himself?" said Christian. "Oh," replied Sercombe, "his little brother had been to school, and could write better!" Christina and Mercy exchanged glances. "I will tell you," Mercy said, "why Mr. lau answered the note: the chief had done with you!" "Or," suggested Christina, "the chief was in such a rage that he would write nothing but a challenge." "I wish to goodness he had! It would have given me the chance of giving the clodhopper a lesson." "For sending you the finest stag's head and horns in the country!" remarked Mercy. "I shot the stag! Perhaps you don't believe I shot him!" "Indeed I do! No one else would have done it. The chief would have died sooner!"