"That will teach you to think rather of the eyes of Laurence MacKim!"
cried Sholto, and without more ado he hit his brother with his
clinched knuckles a fair blow on the bridge of his nose.

The next moment the two youths were grappling together like wild cats,
striking, kicking, and biting with no thought except of who should
have the best of the battle. They rolled on the floor, now tussling
among the crackling faggots, anon pitching soft as one body on the
peat dust in the corner, again knocking over a bench and bringing down
the tools thereon to the floor with a jingle which might have been
heard far out on the loch. They were still clawing and cuffing each
other in blind rage, when a hand, heavy and remorseless, was laid upon
each. Sholto found himself being dabbled in the great tempering
cauldron which stood by his father's forge. Laurence heard his own
teeth rattle as he was shaken sideways till his joints waggled like
those of a puppet at Keltonhill Fair. Then it was his turn to be
doused in the water. Next their heads were soundly knocked together,
and finally, like a pair of arrows sent right and left, Laurence sped
forth at the window in the gable end and found himself in the midst of
a gooseberry bush, whilst Sholto, flying out of the door, fell
sprawling on all fours almost under the feet of a horse on which a
young man sat, smilingly watching the scene.

Brawny Kim scattered the embers of the fire on the forge-hearth, and
threw the breastplate and girdle-brace at which the boys had been
working into a corner of the smithy. Then he turned to lock the door
with the massive key, which stood so far out from the upper leaf that
to it the horses waiting their turns to be shod were ordinarily
tethered.

As he did so he caught sight of the young man sitting silent on the
black charger. Instantly a change passed over his face. With one
motion of his hand he swept the broad blue bonnet from his brow, and
bowed the grizzled head which had worn it low upon his breast. Thus
for the breathing of a breath the master armourer stood, and then,
replacing his bonnet, he looked up again at the young knight on
horseback.

"My lord," he said, after a long pause, in which he waited for the
youth to speak, "this is not well--you ride unattended and unarmed."

"Ah, Malise," laughed the young Earl, "a Douglas has few privileges if
he may not sometimes on a summer eve lay aside his heavy prisonment of
armour and don such a