"
"What! yon stripling?"
"You may say it. He can beat Mack there."
"Mack!" cried Isa, with scorn. "It's just big lies you are telling me."
"Indeed, he has beaten Mack's best throw many a time."
"And how do you know?" exclaimed Isa.
"He said so himself."
"Ah ha!" said Isa scornfully. "He is good at blowing his own horn
whatever, and I don't believe he can beat Mack--and I don't like him a
bit," she continued, her dark eyes flashing and the red colour glowing
in her full round cheek.
"Come, Isa!" cried Mack, catching sight of her in the dim light. "Come
here, I want Mr. Cameron to meet you."
"How do you do?" said the girl, giving Cameron her hand and glancing
saucily into his face. "I hear you are a piper and a hammer-thrower and
altogether a wonderful man."
"A wonderfully lucky man, to have the pleasure of meeting you," said
Cameron, glancing boldly back at her.
"And I am sure you can dance the fling," continued Isa. "All the
Highlanders do."
"Not all," said Cameron. "But with certain partners all Highlanders
would love to try."
"Oh aye," with a soft Highland accent that warmed Cameron's blood. "I
see you have the tongue. Come away, Danny, now, strike up, or I will go
on without you." And the girl kilted her skirts and began a reel, and
as Mack's eyes followed her every step there was no mistaking their
expression.
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