“Will such vengeance give back the life that has been taken?” asked Kenric solemnly.  “Will vengeance restore to our dear mother the happiness that she now has lost?  Methinks it had been wiser in you, Alpin, to have stayed by our father’s side instead of slinking off to your bed and leaving him thus exposed to danger.  Come, let us arm ourselves and confront these evil men, that we may learn which one of them has dealt this fatal blow.”

“With what weapon, say you, was my father slain?” asked Alpin, as, being now in the armoury, they proceeded to don their coats of chain mail.

“With the great knife wherewith he was wont to carve the venison and meat,” said Kenric, taking down a sword.

“Ah!” cried Alpin with swift recollection, “now do I perceive the reason wherefore Earl Roderic took that same knife from off the board and placed it so cunningly above the hearth.  Oh, villain that he is!  He designed even then to do as he has done.

“Now,” he added, snatching up a great two-handed sword, “I am ready.  Let me but meet him —­ let me but face him for a moment, and I will slay him like a dog.”

“Think well ere you strike the blow you contemplate,” said Kenric as they ascended a side stairway that led to the upper floors of the castle.  “Remember that you are now the rightful lord over Bute, and that you will have power to inflict due punishment upon this man without taking a personal vengeance that would surely lead to an endless blood feud.”

“Tush!  You are but a timid boy, Kenric.  What priestly precepts has the old Abbot Thurstan been cramming you with?  Would you pardon the man who has slain our own father?”

“Pardon him?” exclaimed Kenric.  “No, never will I do that.  If you slay him not, Alpin, then, by the holy rood, I myself will do so.  But it shall be in fair fight that I will overcome him, and by no mean subterfuge.”

The two lads were now at the entrance of the larger hall, wherein the good Earl Hamish lay dead.  Alpin went within, and there, bending over his father’s body, he was overwhelmed by his grief.  He staggered to a seat and sat down with his head in his hands, weeping piteously.

Kenric heard loud voices in the corridor, and grasping his sword he hastened to where the guards were stationed.  Duncan Graham, of the long arm, was holding parley with the three earls within the smaller hall.  His broad frame filled up the half-open doorway, so that the presence of the armed guard was not yet known to Roderic and his two companions.

“More wine it may be you can have,” said Duncan; “but as to bringing you your swords, that I cannot do without orders from my master.”

“I am now your master!” said the gruff voice of Roderic of Gigha; “and again I command you to bring us our swords and dirks.”

“You are no master of mine, Earl Roderic,” said Duncan; “and now for your insolence shall you have neither wine nor weapons,” and with that he slammed to the door.