Part 81 (2/2)

'You are aware, madam,' he said, 'that your reputation is in the hand I offer you?'

'The worse for it, my lord,' returned Mysie, with a scornful smile. 'But your lords.h.i.+p's brother will protect it.'

'My brother!' said the marquis. 'What do you mean? I have no brother!'

'Ye hae mair brithers than ye ken o', Lord Sandy, and I'm ane o' them,'

said Shargar.

'You are either a liar or a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, then,' said the marquis, who had not been brought up in a school of which either self-restraint or respect for women were prominent characteristics.

Falconer forgot himself for a moment, and made a stride forward.

'Dinna hit him, Robert,' cried Shargar. 'He ance gae me a s.h.i.+llin', an'

it helpit, as ye ken, to haud me alive to face him this day.--No liar, my lord, but a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, thank heaven.' Then, with a laugh, he instantly added, 'Gin I had been ain brither to you, my lord, G.o.d only knows what a rascal I micht hae been.'

'By G.o.d, you shall answer for your d.a.m.ned insolence,' said the marquis, and, lifting his riding-whip from the table where he had laid it, he approached his brother.

Mysie rang the bell.

'Haud yer han', Sandy,' cried Shargar. 'I hae faced mair fearsome foes than you. But I hae some faimily-feelin', though ye hae nane: I wadna willin'ly strike my brither.'

As he spoke, he retreated a little. The marquis came on with raised whip. But Falconer stepped between, laid one of his great hands on the marquis's chest, and flung him to the other end of the room, where he fell over an ottoman. The same moment the servant entered.

'Ask your mistress to oblige me by coming to the drawing-room,' said Mysie.

The marquis had risen, but had not recovered his presence of mind when Lady Janet entered. She looked inquiringly from one to the other.

'Please, Lady Janet, will you ask the Marquis of Boarshead to leave the house,' said Mysie.

'With all my hert,' answered Lady Janet; 'and the mair that he's a kin'

o' a cousin o' my ain. Gang yer wa's, Sandy. Ye're no fit company for decent fowk; an' that ye wad ken yersel', gin ye had ony idea left o'

what decency means.'

Without heeding her, the marquis went up to Falconer.

'Your card, sir.'

Lady Janet followed him.

''Deed ye s' get nae cairds here,' she said, pus.h.i.+ng him aside.

'So you allow your friends to insult me in your own house as they please, cousin Janet?' said the marquis, who probably felt her opposition the most formidable of all.

''Deed they canna say waur o' ye nor I think. Gang awa', an' repent.

Consider yer gray hairs, man.'

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