and pointing with his sheathed broadsword to the torch-bearers, said,
in a deep and stern tone of voice, "Behold, gentlemen cavaliers, the
chandeliers of my brother's house, the ancient fashion of our ancient
name; not one of these men knows any law but their Chiefs command--Would
you dare to compare to THEM in value the richest ore that ever was dug
out of the mine? How say you, cavaliers?--is your wager won or lost?"

"Lost; lost," said Musgrave, gaily--"my own silver candlesticks are all
melted and riding on horseback by this time, and I wish the fellows
that enlisted were half as trusty as these.--Here, sir," he added to the
Chief, "is your money; it impairs Hall's finances and mine somewhat, but
debts of honour must be settled."

"My father's curse upon my father's son," said Allan, interrupting him,
"if he receive from you one penny! It is enough that you claim no right
to exact from him what is his own."

Lord Menteith eagerly supported Allan's opinion, and the elder M'Aulay
readily joined, declaring the whole to be a fool's business, and
not worth speaking more about. The Englishmen, after some courteous
opposition, were persuaded to regard the whole as a joke.

"And now, Allan," said the Laird, "please to remove your candles; for,
since the Saxon gentlemen have seen them, they will eat their dinner
as comfortably by the light of the old tin sconces, without scomfishing
them with so much smoke."

Accordingly, at a sign from Allan, the living chandeliers, recovering
their broadswords, and holding the point erect, marched out of the hall,
and left the guests to enjoy their refreshment. [Such a bet as that