THE MAN FROM GLENGARRY
"Oui!" cried LeNoir, stepping back and putting up his hands, "das me; Louis LeNoir! by Gar!" He struck himself on the breast as he spoke.
"Out of my way!" cried Macdonald, swinging his open hand on the Frenchman's ear. With a swift sweep he brushed LeNoir aside from his place, and ignoring him stooped over his brother. But LeNoir was no coward, and besides his boasted reputation was at stake. He thought he saw his chance, and rushing at Macdonald as he was bending over his brother, delivered his terrible lash. But Macdonald had not lived with and fought with Frenchmen all these years without knowing their tricks and ways. He saw LeNoir's lash coming, and quickly turning his head, avoided the blow.
"Ah! would ye? Take that, then, and be quate!" and so saying, he caught LeNoir on the side of the head and sent him to the floor.
"Keep him off a while, Yankee!" said Macdonald, for LeNoir was up again, and coming at him.
Then kneeling beside his brother he wiped the bloody froth that was oozing from his lips, and said in a low, anxious tone:
"Hugh, bhodaich (old man), are ye hurted? Can ye not speak to me, Hugh?"
"Oich-oh," Black Hugh groaned. "It was a necessity—Donald man—and—he took me—unawares—with his—keeck."
"Indeed, and I'll warrant you!" agreed his brother, "but I will be attending to him, never you fear."
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