"And I say," said the Master, rising slowly, "that nothing can concern
me less. Whose hounds come so near to us?"

"The Honourable Lord Brittlebrains's," answered Caleb, who had followed
the impatient Laird of Bucklaw into his master's bedroom, "and truly I
ken nae title they have to be yowling and howling within the freedoms
and immunities of your lordship's right of free forestry."

"Nor I, Caleb," replied Ravenswood, "excepting that they have bought
both the lands and the right of forestry, and may think themselves
entitled to exercise the rights they have paid their money for."

"It may be sae, my lord," replied Caleb; "but it's no gentleman's deed
of them to come here and exercise such-like right, and your lordship
living at your ain castle of Wolf's Crag. Lord Brittlebrains would weel
to remember what his folk have been."

"And what we now are," said the Master, with suppressed bitterness of
feeling. "But reach me my cloak, Caleb, and I will indulge Bucklaw with
a sight of this chase. It is selfish to sacrifice my guest's pleasure to
my own."

"Sacrifice!" echoed Caleb, in a tone which seemed to imply the total
absurdity of his master making the least concession in deference to any
one--"sacrifice, indeed!--but I crave your honour's pardon, and whilk
doublet is it your pleasure to wear?"