CHAPTER II.  THE DARK FOREST OF BARONE.

When Lulach heard a shrill whistle from afar and saw Kenric, he tarried a while that the cattle might begin to browse upon the lush grass that grew on the marshes beside the sea.  Then he went forth to meet him, and threw himself on his knees before him, for Lulach was a thrall, and it was his custom thus to pay homage to the sons of the brave lord of Bute.

“Rise, Lulach, rise!” said Kenric, speaking now in the Norse tongue that the lad might better understand him.  “And tell me, what manner of men were the three strangers you saw landing in the bay of Scalpsie this forenoon?”

“They were men out of the North, my master.  I heard them speaking in my own tongue,” said Lulach, throwing back his long red hair that had fallen over his suntanned face.

“And were they men of peace?”

“I know not, my master; but much did I fear them, for never knew I a Norseman yet who was not cruel to me; and seeing them I hid myself behind a rock.”

“Cowardly hind!  You are but fit to drive a herd of kine.  Of what aspect were these men?”

“The one who led them was even as a king,” said Lulach.  “He was tall and strong, and his footing was firm upon the heath.  He wore a helm crested with a golden dragon, and a great sword at his side.  I thought that surely it was the Earl Hamish of Bute himself, for were it not that the stranger’s hair was of the colour of the fox’s coat, never saw I a man that more resembled your father.”

“And his followers, what of them?”

“One was an aged man with a silver beard.  The other might be his son.  Ah, I wot they are come for no good purpose, my master, for they landed when the tide was low, and that bodes ill for Bute.”

“Heaven forfend!” said Kenric, growing uneasy at the thought.

“And now,” added he, loosing the dead birds from his girdle, “take me these grouse to the abbey, and tell the good abbot that I come not to St. Blane’s this night, but that I go home to the castle to see who these strangers may be, and to learn their purpose.”

But as Lulach was taking the game into his hands, he drew back and pointed with trembling finger to the green path that led towards Rothesay.

“See!” he exclaimed, “there is ill luck before you!  Turn back, my master, turn back!”

“Ah! a magpie, and alone!” cried Kenric, seeing the bird in his path.  “That is ill luck indeed!  Give me some salt from your wallet, Lulach, for if this sign reads true then it were unwise in me to go farther without some salt in my pocket.”

“Alas!” said Lulach, “I have none.  My wallet is empty!”

“Then God be my protection!” said Kenric, and with that he went on his way, feeling a dread foreboding at his heart.

The light of day had faded from the sky as he passed by the black waters of Loch Dhu; but there was a silvery glare above the jagged peaks of the Arran fells, and he knew that the moon was rising, and that he would soon have her friendly light to guide him through the dark pine forest of Barone.