eneugh; and that is Sir Miles Musgrave and Christopher
Hall, both from the Cumraik, as I think they call their country."

"Hall and Musgrave?" said Lord Menteith, looking at his attendants, "the
very men that we wished to see."

"Troth," said Donald, "an' I wish I had never seen them between the een,
for they're come to herry us out o' house and ha'."

"Why, Donald," said Lord Menteith, "you did not use to be so churlish of
your beef and ale; southland though they be, they'll scarce eat up all
the cattle that's going on the castle mains."

"Teil care an they did," said Donald, "an that were the warst o't, for
we have a wheen canny trewsmen here that wadna let us want if there was
a horned beast atween this and Perth. But this is a warse job--it's nae
less than a wager."

"A wager!" repeated Lord Menteith, with some surprise.

"Troth," continued Donald, to the full as eager to tell his news as Lord
Menteith was curious to hear them, "as your lordship is a friend and
kinsman o' the house, an' as ye'll hear eneugh o't in less than an hour,
I may as weel tell ye mysell. Ye sall be pleased then to know, that when
our Laird was up in England where he gangs oftener than his friends can
wish, he was biding at the house o' this Sir Miles Musgrave, an' there
was putten on the table six candlesticks, that they tell me were twice
as muckle as the candlesticks in Dunblane kirk, and neither airn, brass,
nor tin, but a' solid silver, nae less;--up wi' their English pride, has
sae muckle, and kens sae little how to guide it! Sae they began to jeer
the Laird, that he saw nae sic graith in his ain poor country; and
the Laird, scorning to hae his country put down without a word for its
credit, swore, like a gude Scotsman, that he had mair candlesticks, and
better candlesticks, in his ain castle at hame, than were ever lighted
in a hall in Cumberland, an Cumberland be the name o' the country."

"That was patriotically said," observed Lord Menteith.

"Fary true," said Donald; "but her honour had better hae hauden her
tongue: for if ye say ony thing amang the Saxons that's a wee by
ordinar, they clink ye down for a wager as fast as a Lowland smith would
hammer shoon on a Highland shelty. An' so the Laird behoved either to
gae back o' his word, or wager twa hunder merks; and sa he e'en tock the
wager, rather than be shamed wi' the like o' them. And now he's like to
get it to pay, and I'm thinking that's what makes him sae swear to come