But the man was in earnest--so much in earnest that he either failed to note, or noting, disregarded, the wrathful frown with which Captain Arbuthnot, having halted his troop, rode forward at a walk to meet him.
"Back, Captain, back!" shouted Mr.Smellie, pointing down the lane.
"I beg your pardon, sir"-- the Captain reined up and addressed him with cold, incisive politeness--"but may I suggest that you have played the fool with us sufficiently for one night, and that my men's tempers are short ?" "Havers!" exclaimed the indomitable Smellie, rising yet higher in his stirrups and lifting a hand for silence.

"I ask ye to listen to the racket down yonder.

The drum, now!" (Sure enough Captain Arbuthnot, pricking his ears, heard the tunding of a drum far away in the woods to the southward.) "Man, they've diddled us! While they put that trick on us at Talland Cove, their haill womankind was rafting the true cargo up the river.

I've ridden down, I tell you, and the clue of their game I hold in my two hands here from start to finish.
The brandy's yonder in Sir Felix's woods, and the men are lying around it fou-drunk as the Israelites among the pots.

Man, if ye would turn to-night's laugh, turn your troop and follow, and ye shall cull them like gowans!" "It is throwing the haft after the hatchet," hesitated Captain Arbuthnot, impressed against his will by the earnestness of the appeal.