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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

His lordship, excusing
himself perhaps on the ground of necessity, there being a girl in
the case, would have struck him again; but Andrew threw himself
between, and received the blow for him.
As Donal came to himself, he heard a groan from the ground, and
looking, saw Andrew at his feet, and understood.
"Dear old man!" he said; "he dared to strike you!"
"He didna mean 't," returned Andrew feebly. "Are ye winnin' ower 't,
sir? He gae ye a terrible ane! Ye micht hae h'ard it across the
street!"
"I shall be all right in a minute!" answered Donal, wiping the blood
out of his eyes. "I've a good hard head, thank God!--But what has
become of them?"
"Ye didna think he wud be waitin' to see 's come to oorsel's!" said
the cobbler.
With Donal's help, and great difficulty, he rose, and they stood
looking at each other through the starlight, bewildered and
uncertain. The cobbler was the first to recover his wits.
"It's o' no mainner of use," he said, "to rouse the castel wi' hue
an' cry! What hae we to say but 'at we faund the twa i' the gairden
thegither! It wud but raise a clash--the which, fable or fac', wud
do naething for naebody! His lordship maun be loot ken, as ye say;
but wull his lordship believe ye, sir? I'm some i' the min' the
yoong man 's awa' til's faither a'ready, to prejudeese him again'
onything ye may say."
"That makes it the more necessary," said Donal, "that I should go at
once to his lordship.


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