He had no intention to watch them, neither had he any desire to meet Angus
while he was with Maggie. That would have been a little triumph for Angus,
which Allan did not intend to give him. So he determined to remain where
he was until they had either parted or gone away together. He was
undoubtedly angry. It never struck him that the meeting might be an
accidental one. He was certain that, for some reason or other, Maggie had
an appointment with her well-known admirer; and he said bitterly to
himself, "Like to like, why should I have the heart-ache about her?"

The sound of their voices, in an indistinct, fitful way, reached him where
he sat. At first there was nothing peculiar in the tone, but in a few
minutes it was evident that Maggie was getting angry. Allan rose then and
went slowly toward them. Where the hill touched the beach it terminated in
a point of jagged rocks about seven feet high. Maggie and Angus stood on
one side of them, Allan on the other. He was as yet unseen, but
half-a-dozen steps would bring them together. Maggie was by this time in a
passion.

"It is weel for you, Angus Raith, that my fayther is at the bottom o' the
sea," she said. "If Will was alive, or John, or Sandy, this day, ye hadna
daured to open your ill mouth to me."

"Why dinna you tell your fine brother Davie?"

"Davie is aboon sorting the like o' you. Do you think I wad hae hands that
are for the Ordinances touch you, you--born deevil?"

"Tell Maister Allan Campbell then. If a's true that's said to be true--"