Now, Billy Berwick, keep good heart,
And of they talking let me be;
But if thou art a man, as I am sure thou art,
Come over the dike and fight with me.

Old Ballad

The Master of Ravenswood had mounted the ambling hackney which he before
rode, on finding the accident which had happened to his led horse, and,
for the animal's ease, was proceeding at a slow pace from the Tod's Den
towards his old tower of Wolf's Crag, when he heard the galloping of a
horse behind him, and, looking back, perceived that he was pursued by
young Bucklaw, who had been delayed a few minutes in the pursuit by
the irresistable temptation of giving the hostler at the Tod's Den some
recipe for treating the lame horse. This brief delay he had made up by
hard galloping, and now overtook the Master where the road traversed
a waste moor. "Halt, sir," cried Bucklaw; "I am no political agent--no
Captain Craigengelt, whose life is too important to be hazarded in
defence of his honour. I am Frank Hayston of Bucklaw, and no man injures
me by word, deed, sign, or look, but he must render me an account of
it."

"This is all very well, Mr. Hayston of Bucklaw," replied the Master
of Ravenswood, in a tone the most calm and indifferent; "but I have no
quarrel with you, and desire to have none. Our roads homeward, as well
as our roads through life, lie in different directions; there is no
occasion for us crossing each other."