his chair, and looked with a pitiful eye at his
kinsman.

"My good Iain," he said, "do you ken the old Lochow wife's story of the
two daws? 'Thou didst well,' said the one, 'though thy wings _are_ cut;
thou didst well to do as I told thee.' I'm not blaming you; you are a
brave man of your own hands, and a middling honest man too, as honesty
goes among mercenaries; but your tongue's plausible, plausible, and you
are the devil's counsellor to any other man who slackens his will by so
much as a finger-length."

M'Iver took on a set stern jaw, and looked his chief very dourly in the
face.

"My Lord of Argile," he said, "you're my cousin-ger-man, and you're in a
despondent key, and small blame to you with your lands smoking about
you from Cruachan to Kilmartin; but if you were King Tearlach himself,
I would take no insult from you. Do you charge me with any of your
misfortunes?"

"I charge you with nothing, John," said Argile, wearily. "I'm only
saying that at a time of stress, when there's a conflict in a man's mind
between ease and exertion, you're not the best of consciences. Are we
two going to quarrel about a phrase while our clansmen's blood is crying
from the sod? Sit down, sir; sit down, if it please you," he said more
sternly, the scowl that gave him the _gruamach_ reputation coming on his
face; "sit down, if it please you, and instead of ruffling up like the
bubbly-jock over words, tell me, if you can, how to save a reputation
from the gutter. If it was not that I know I have your love, do you
think I should be laying my heart bare here and now? You have known me
some time now, M'Iver--did you ever find me without some reserve in my
most intimate speech? Did you ever hear me say two words that I had not
a third in the background to bring forward if the policy of the moment
called for it?"

M'Iver laughed slyly, and hesitated to make any answer.

"It's a simple question," said the Marquis; "am I to think it needs too
straightforward an answer for John Splendid to give it?"

"I'm as frank as my neighbours," said M'Iver.

"Well, sir, do not check the current of my candour by any picking and
choosing of words. I ask if you have ever found me with the babbling and
unbridled tongue of a fool in my mouth, giving my bottom-most thought to
the wind and the street?"

"You were no Gael if you did, my lord. That's the sin of the shallow
wit. I aye kept a bit thought of my own in the corner of my vest."

MacCailein