“I know it,” continued Kenric with full and sonorous voice that might have been heard at the further side of Ascog mere.  “I know your purpose, Roderic of Gigha.  Think you that there are none of us that can understand the Norse tongue in which you spake to your two base comrades? I know that tongue.  I heard your craven moans of anguish when you came out from that darkened hall wherein my father lay dead.  I heard you tell of how you meant to slay the vixen and her cubs.  And who are they?  My mother and Alpin and me!  My mother, whom you flattered with soft speeches —­ my mother, in whose presence you were not worthy to breathe, and whose noble heart you have now broken by your murderous treachery.  And you would have slain her as you slew our father.  I thank the great God who stayed your hand from fulfilling such devil’s work to the end.  May He punish you as you deserve to be punished for the evil you have done!”

A deep silence followed upon this speech, and then a thousand lusty voices broke out in a prolonged groan of imprecation.  But Roderic of Gigha only turned to Erland the Old and smiled.

Kenric looked to the crowd that stood behind the judge’s seat, and there he saw Ailsa Redmain standing with her brother Allan; and Ailsa’s eyes glistened with approval of what Kenric had just spoken, and he took new courage.

“Men of Bute,” said Sir Oscar Redmain, turning to the ruthmen, “ye have heard what has passed.  It is now for you to pronounce judgment upon the accused man.  What say you?”

“That Earl Roderic is guilty of the crime,” said Ronald Gray, their spokesman, “and that he shall pay the highest penalty that our laws can impose.”

“Then,” said Alpin, “I claim that Roderic of Gigha shall die the death.”

But at that the wise men shook their heads.

“In the time of my father, the good king Alpin,” said Roderic with a voice of triumph, “it was ordained, as all of you must surely know, that no man should die for the slaying of his enemy unless he were caught red-handed and with the weapon in his hand; but that for taking the life of a man in hot blood he should be assoiled or cleansed on payment of the eriach fine, which is nine score of kine, to the kin of his victim.  And I ask Dovenald Dornoch if this be not so?”

At this Alpin held speech with Dovenald the lawman, and his face grew sullen in disappointment.

“Alas!” said Alpin to Sir Oscar, “what Earl Roderic hath said is indeed true; for it seems that my grandsire, king Alpin, and also my father, who is dead, did in their mercy so ordain that crimes of violence should be dealt with in such manner that the traitor might have time in which to repent of his ill deeds and commend himself to God.  But for the slaying of a king the fine is not nine score, but six times nine-score of kine, or three thousand golden oras.  And if that fine be not paid within a year and a day, then shall the traitor die the death.  And now, oh men of Bute, since that I cannot see this man die —­ as, would that I might! —­ I call upon him for the due payment of my eriach fine.  And moreover, oh judge, you and the wise men of Bute whom I see here present are guarantees for the full payment, and you shall see that it be paid within a year and a day.”