“And then,” said Alan, “the little man with the red head—­I havenae mind of the name that he is called.”

“Riach,” said I.

“Ay” said Alan, “Riach!  Well, it was him that took up the clubs for me, asked the men if they werenae feared of a judgment, and, says he ’Dod, I’ll put my back to the Hielandman’s mysel’.’  That’s none such an entirely bad little man, yon little man with the red head,” said Alan.  “He has some spunks of decency.”

“Well,” said I, “he was kind to me in his way.”

“And so he was to Alan,” said he; “and by my troth, I found his way a very good one!  But ye see, David, the loss of the ship and the cries of these poor lads sat very ill upon the man; and I’m thinking that would be the cause of it.”

“Well, I would think so,” says I; “for he was as keen as any of the rest at the beginning.  But how did Hoseason take it?”

“It sticks in my mind that he would take it very ill,” says Alan.  “But the little man cried to me to run, and indeed I thought it was a good observe, and ran.  The last that I saw they were all in a knot upon the beach, like folk that were not agreeing very well together.”

“What do you mean by that?” said I.

“Well, the fists were going,” said Alan; “and I saw one man go down like a pair of breeks.  But I thought it would be better no to wait.  Ye see there’s a strip of Campbells in that end of Mull, which is no good company for a gentleman like me.  If it hadnae been for that I would have waited and looked for ye mysel’, let alone giving a hand to the little man.” (It was droll how Alan dwelt on Mr. Riach’s stature, for, to say the truth, the one was not much smaller than the other.) “So,” says he, continuing, “I set my best foot forward, and whenever I met in with any one I cried out there was a wreck ashore.  Man, they didnae stop to fash with me!  Ye should have seen them linking for the beach!  And when they got there they found they had had the pleasure of a run, which is aye good for a Campbell.  I’m thinking it was a judgment on the clan that the brig went down in the lump and didnae break.  But it was a very unlucky thing for you, that same; for if any wreck had come ashore they would have hunted high and low, and would soon have found ye.”

CHAPTER XIX

THE HOUSE OF FEAR

Night fell as we were walking, and the clouds, which had broken up in the afternoon, settled in and thickened, so that it fell, for the season of the year, extremely dark.  The way we went was over rough mountainsides; and though Alan pushed on with an assured manner, I could by no means see how he directed himself.

At last, about half-past ten of the clock, we came to the top of a brae, and saw lights below us.  It seemed a house door stood open and let out a beam of fire and candle-light; and all round the house and steading five or six persons were moving hurriedly about, each carrying a lighted brand.