and saw the
dining-room table-cover floating from the spear staff in the wind.

"That, father?" cried Kenneth, forcing a laugh, while Max felt a strange
desire to beat a retreat; "that's the banner of the Mackhais."

"No fooling, sir, at a time like this," cried The Mackhai, so fiercely
that his son turned pale. "And now please explain what's all this I
have just learned on the way, about a party of men coming here, and
there being a desperate fight. Is this true?"

"Well, there has been a fight, father. I don't know about desperate."

"Not desperate, sir! when I found two men on the road, one bruised and
battered about so that he can't see out of his eyes, and his face all
blood-smeared, while the other is lamed, and can hardly walk."

"Well, sir," said Kenneth boldly, "a pack of scoundrels came here with a
cock-and-bull story about taking possession of Dunroe; and as you were
out, and I knew it must be some trick, I called our people together,
shut the gates, set them at defiance, and--there was a fight, and we
beat 'em off."

A flush of pride came across The Mackhai's face, and a bright look fell
upon his son, but they passed away directly, and he continued, with
lowering brow.

"And you have done this, sir?" he said sternly; "and you," he added,
turning sharply upon Max,--"you knew better than this stupid country
boor of a boy. Why didn't you stop him?"

"I did not think of doing so, sir," said Max, hesitating; and then,
speaking out firmly, "I helped him, and did my best to beat the people
off. I'm afraid I was worse than he."

"What?" cried The Mackhai; "you did?"

"Yes, sir, I did."

The Mackhai burst into a wild, discordant laugh.

"You did?" he repeated mockingly. "You helped to beat off these
scoundrels of the law?"

"Yes, sir."

Kenneth flushed, for it seemed to him that his father was casting a
doubt on his friend's pluck.

"Yes, father, that he did; and no fellow could have fought better."

"This is most delicious!" cried The Mackhai mockingly. "You, Maximilian
Blande, fought with all your might to defend my home from these people?"

"I thought the property of the gentleman who had been very kind to me
was in danger, sir, and I helped his son with all my might," said Max
warmly. "I'm sorry if I've done wrong. Don't be angry with Kenneth,
sir. I'm sure he meant to do what was right."

"Right!" cried the Mackhai. "You young idiots, you don't know what
you've done,--you do not