THROUGH   THE   ISLE   OF   MULL.                     141
"Five shillings mair," said he, "and hersel' will
bring ye there."
I reflected a while and then offered him two, which
he accepted greedily, and insisted on having in his hands
at once-"for luck," as he said, but I think it was
rather for my misfortune.
The two shillings carried him not quite as many
miles; at the end of which distance, he sat down upon
the wayside and took off his brogues from his feet, like
a man about to rest.
I was now red-hot. "Ha!" said I, "have you no
more English?"
He said impudently, "no."
At that I boiled over and lifted my hand to strike
him; and he, drawing a knife from his rags, squatted
back and grinned at me like a wild-cat. At that, for-
getting everything but my anger, I ran in upon him,
put aside his knife with my left and struck him in the
mouth with the right. I was a strong lad and very
angry, and he but a little man; and he went down
before me heavily. By good luck, his knife flew out of
his hand as he fell.
I picked up both that and his brogues, wished him a
good morning and set off upon my way, leaving him
bare-foot and disarmed. I chuckled to myself as I
went, being sure I was done with that rogue, for a
variety of reasons. First, he knew he could have no
more of my money; next, the brogues were worth in
that country only a few pence; and lastly the knife,