ers lays a finger on me to stop me, I'll
break his God-damned neck.'

"Says Hughie Rafferty to us--you know Hughie Rafferty, a silent man, a
wise man--says he: 'He'll get out fifty yards, a hundred yards from
shore and be stuck. And he'll say: "Well, I've done my best. Good-by and
to hell with ye, and die like men!" And he'll come back. And if the boat
turns over,' says Hughie Rafferty, 'he can swim like a rat, and he'll
be back among us cursing, like his ain kind sel', within a wheen o'
minutes.'

"Says Hughie Rafferty, says he: 'I'll go wi' your Honor's Lordship, Alan
Donn.'

"'You will like hell,' says Alan Donn. 'You'll stay here wi' your
childer and the mother o' your childer.'

"Then a wee old man, that was a piper, speaks up. He was bent in two
over an ash plant was in his right hand, and his left hand held his
back.

"'It's a foolish thing you are doing, Alan Donn,' says he. 'How can you
bring off the poor people?'

"'I don't want to bring off the poor people, Shamus-a-Feeba, James of
the Pipes. But there's not a rock, a wind, a current, a wave itself of
Struth na-Maoile that I don't know. I'm figuring on rigging up some kind
of sea-anchor,' says Alan Donn, says he, 'and getting the ignorant
foreigners to chop their gear overboard, and riding the storm out. Don't
worry yourself, Shamus-a-Feeba.'

"That was the way of your uncle, Alan Donn Campbell. He was very rough
with the strong, but he was ay considerate of the old and over-young.
He'd be rough with the king of England but he'd be awfu' polite to an
ould man."

"God, is Alan Donn dead?" Shane was near tears. "Do people like Alan
Donn die?"

"Aye, they die, too," said Simon Fraser. "And rogues live. It's queer.

"The boat was a'ready to be put into the sea, when your uncle sees
mysel' on the edge o' the gathering. He comes straight to me. You mind
how Alan Donn used to go through a crowd.

"'Are you the sailing man,' says he, 'wha's a half-brither to Red Tam
McNeil of the Ten-Acre?'"

"'I am, sir, Alan Donn.'

"'Is it go wi' ye in the boat?' says I. 'I'll go.'

"'No, no,' quo' he. 'It's no' that. So'thin' different. You ken my
brither's son, Shane Oge Campbell, wha's a master on the seas?'

"'I've met him once or twice, and I've heard tell.'

"'If you see him, gi'e him a message. I'm sure you'll see him. I'm
sure,' says Alan Donn, 'this morn I'm fey.'

"'Tell him,' says Alan Donn, and he puts his hand on my shoulder. 'Tell
him this: I'