you have crushed the soul within her, and her name is bandied from mouth
to mouth. 'T were kind to leave her to forget and be forgotten. Go to
Westover: wed the lady there of whom you raved in your fever. You are her
declared suitor; 'tis said that she loves you"--

Haward drew his breath sharply and turned in his chair. Then, spent with
fatigue, irritable from recent illness, sore with the memory of the
meeting by the river, determined upon his course and yet deeply perplexed,
he narrowed his eyes and began to give poisoned arrow for poisoned arrow.

"Was it in the service of the Pretender that you became a squire of
dames?" he asked. "'Gad, for a Jacobite you are particular!"

MacLean started as if struck, and drew himself up. "Have a care, sir! A
MacLean sits not to hear his king or his chief defamed. In future, pray
remember it."

"For my part," said the other, "I would have Mr. MacLean remember"--

The intonation carried his meaning. MacLean, flushing deeply, rose from
the table. "That is unworthy of you," he said. "But since before to-night
servants have rebuked masters, I spare not to tell you that you do most
wrongly. 'Tis sad for the girl she died not in that wilderness where you
found her."

"Ads my life!" cried Haward. "Leave my affairs alone!"

Both men were upon their feet. "I took you for a gentleman," said the
Highlander, breathing hard. "I said to myself: 'Duart is overseas where I
cannot serve him. I will take this other for my chief'"--