Away over hill and dale now for a long stroll. But where was Kep and Bounder. The restless Kep had gone on before. He left word with the housekeeper that he had gone on and that they would find him--forest way. I'm really afraid that Kep was a sly little dog.
"Oh, we'll find him," said McTavish, and away the two went together up and across the moor.
I'm sure of one thing, that McTavish, did not talk about Scotland and the Clans to his sweet and beautiful companion. They gathered wild flowers instead, and Mac could name them all and tell the story of their lives.
Then, by chance I suppose, they entered a shady, ferny dell, and down they sat upon a rock. Then the past somehow came back and their romance in fair Italy.
He was an awkward fellow, this Mac, and really was at a loss what to do or what to say.
But he blurted out at last--"Oh, dearest on earth, life of my life, soul of my soul, we love each other. Will you not be mine?"
She did not lisp out like a Society belle--"It's so sudden."
But her tearful face was upturned to his.
"That is nothing," said bold Mac. "I'll manage father. Then----"
Well, then Bounder put in an appearance with his red tongue out over his white teeth and laughing all down both sides.
"Hilloa! you fellows"--it was Kep's voice--"I've been looking for you everywhere."
The journey back to the Cottage was a lightsome and happy one. The dinner was a splendid one. All McTavish's despondency had fled, and he kept his host laughing almost continuously all the while with the strange stories he told.
After dinner the Squire and he went out to smoke in the garden, while the full moon rose silently up and sparkled on the beautiful sea.
You must have known long before this that this great athlete surgeon was not the man to hang fire about anything. His motto was, if you've got to fight, why, the sooner you charge the better.
He stopped so quickly in his walk that the Squire had forged ahead a few paces before he too could stop ship and get about.
"Squire Drummond, I love your daughter, and have reason to believe she is fond of me. Squire Drummond, may I call you father?"
The Squire looked the bold young rascal up and down, then burst out laughing. And here is what he said as he held out his hand--