--Rainbows. Rainbows."
These last two words were spoken after a pause, and in a tone of
sadness. Alec thought he was drunk again, and half rose to go.
"Dinna gang yet," said Mr Cupples, authoritatively. "Ye come at yer ain
will: ye maun gang at mine.--Gin I cud but get a kick at that fellow
Cupples! But I declare I canna help it. Gin I war God, I wad cure him
o' drink. It's the verra first thing I wad do."
Alec could not help being shocked at the irreverence of the words. But
the solemnity of Mr Cupples's face speedily dissipated the feeling.
Suddenly changing his tone, he went on:
"What's your name?"
"Alec Forbes."
"Alec Forbes. I'll try to remember it. I seldom remember anybody's
name, though. I sometimes forget my own. What was the fellow's name you
thrashed the other day?"
"Patrick Beauchamp. I did not mention it before."
"The deevil it was!" exclaimed Mr Cupples, half-starting from his seat.
"Did ye gie him a _richt_ thrashin'?"
"I think he had the worst of it. He gave in, any way."
"He comes of a bad lot! I know all about them. They're from Strathspey,
where my father came from--at least his father was. If the young fellow
turns out well, it'll be a wonder.
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