Dinna
ye see I hae been drinkin'? And I winna be contred."
"Drinkin'!" exclaimed Mr Cupples. "Little ye ken aboot drinkin'. I hae
drunken three times as muckle as you. And gin that be ony argument for
me haudin' oot o' your gait, it's mair argument yet for you to haud oot
o' mine. I sweir to God I winna stan' this ony langer. Ye're to come
hame wi' me frae this mou' o' hell and ugsome (frightful) deith. It
gangs straucht to the everlastin' burnin's. Eh, man! to think nae mair
o' women nor _that_!"
And the brave little man placed himself right between Alec and the
door, which now opened half-way, showing several peering and laughing
faces.
But the opposition of Mr Cupples had increased the action of the
alcohol upon Alec's brain, and he blazed up in a fury at the notion of
being made a laughter to the women. He took one step towards Mr
Cupples, who had restored his hands to his pockets and backed a few
paces towards the door of the house, to guard against Alec's passing
him.
"Haud oot o' my gait, or I'll gar ye," he said fiercely.
"I will not," answered Mr Cupples, and lay senseless on the stones of
the court.
Alec strode into the house, and the door closed behind him.
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