---
Stand up, Robin, my man! all friends now; and
let me hear the man that will speak a word against
you, or your country, for your sake.''
Robin Oig was still under the dominion of his
passion, and eager to renew the onset; but being
withheld on the one side by the peace-making
Dame Heskett, and on the other, aware that Wakefield
no loner meant to renew the combat, his fury
sunk into gloomy sullenness.
``Come, come, never grudge so much at it, man,''
said the brave-spirited Englishman, with the placability
of his country, ``shake hands, and we will
be better friends than ever.''
``Friends!'' exclaimed Robin Oig with strong
emphasis---``friends!---Never. Look to yourself,
Harry Waakfelt.''
``Then the curse of Cromwell on your proud
Scots stomach, as the man says in the play, and you
may do your worst, and be d---; for one man
can say nothing more to another after a tussle, than
that he is sorry for it.''
On these terms the friends parted; Robin Oig
drew out, in silence, a piece of money, threw it on
the table, and then left the alehouse. But turning
at the door, he shook his hand at Wakefield, pointing
with his forefinger upwards, in a manner which
might imply either a threat or a caution.
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