What wrong have I done?"
But the reasoning of the prosaic Englishman was thrown to the winds:
"Ye've done everything wrong. Ye should hae gin ten pund sterling
apiece for the coos, and not twenty-sen and saxpence. It's a pity
yer brither, and Thacker, and MacFarlane are no here the nicht, and
we'd droon them, too."
Four strong men, shouting in Gaelic the war-cry of Sheriffmuir,
"Revenge, revenge, revenge to-day, mourning to-morrow!" seized the
long limbs of the unfortunate Mason, and in spite of his struggles
bore him towards the beach. The water near the margin was shallow,
so they waded in until it was deep enough for their purpose. There
was a piercing cry, "Help! murder! murder!" John Campbell heard it,
but it was not safe for a Campbell to stand between a Macdonnell and
his revenge. However, Captain Davy and Pateley Jim came out of their
huts to see what was the matter, and they waded after the
Highlanders. Each seized a man by the collar and downhauled. There
was a sudden whirlpool, a splashing and a spluttering, as all the
five men went under and drank the brine.
"I think," said Pateley, "that will cool 'em a bit," and it did.
Long Mason was a university man, educated for the church, but before
his ordination to the priesthood he had many other adventures and
misfortunes. After being nearly drowned by the Highlanders he was
placed in charge of Woodside station by his elder brother; he tried
to mitigate the miseries of solitude with drink, but he did so too
much and was turned adrift.
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