as was then the fashion, the rider wearing tight leather breeches, and long-necked bright spurs.  This cavalier asked one or two pertinent questions about markets and the price of stock.  So Donald, seeing him a well-judging, civil gentleman, took the freedom to ask him whether he could let him know if there was any grass-land to be let in that neighbourhood, for the temporary accommodation of his drove.  He could not have put the question to more willing ears.  The gentleman of the buckskins was the proprietor, with whose bailiff Harry Wakefield had dealt, or was in the act of dealing.

“Thou art in good luck, my canny Scot,” said Mr. Ireby, “to have spoken to me, for I see thy cattle have done their day’s work, and I have at my disposal the only field within three miles that is to be let in these parts.”

“The drove can pe gang two, three, four miles very pratty weel indeed—­” said the cautious Highlander; “put what would his honour pe axing for the peasts pe the head, if she was to tak the park for twa or three days?”

“We wont differ, Sawney, if you let me have six stots for winterers, in the way of reason.”

“And which peasts wad your honour pe for having?”

“Why—­let me see—­the two black—­the dun one—­yon doddy—­him with the twisted horn—­and brockit—­How much by the head?”

“Ah,” said Robin, “your honour is a shudge—­a real shudge—­I couldna have set off the pest six peasts petter myself, me that ken them as if they were my pairns, puir things.”

“Well, how much per head, Sawney,” continued Mr. Ireby.

“It was high markets at Doune and Falkirk,” answered Robin.

And thus the conversation proceeded, until they had agreed on the prix juste for the bullocks, the Squire throwing in the temporary accommodation of the enclosure for the cattle into the boot, and Robin making, as he thought, a very good bargain, providing the grass was but tolerable.  The Squire walked his pony alongside of the drove, partly to show him the way, and see him put into possession of the field, and partly to learn the latest news of the northern markets.

They arrived at the field, and the pasture seemed excellent.  But what was their surprise when they saw the bailiff quietly inducting the cattle of Harry Wakefield into the grassy Goshen which had just been assigned to those of Robin Oig M’Combich by the proprietor himself.  Squire Ireby set spurs to his horse, dashed up to his servant, and learning what had passed between the parties, briefly informed the English drover that his bailiff had let the ground without his authority, and that he might seek grass for his cattle wherever he would, since he was to get none there.  At the same time he rebuked his servant severely for having transgressed his commands, and ordered him instantly to assist in ejecting the hungry and weary cattle of Harry Wakefield, which were just beginning to enjoy a meal of unusual plenty, and to introduce those of his comrade, whom the English drover now began to consider as a rival.