strate among the rocks at the side of the
cleuch. He lay motionless for a moment or two. Then, without warning, he
let his piece off with a bang that waked all the birds in that silent
place, and went to our hearts also with a stound like pain. For though
Wat and I had both done men to death, it had been in battle, or face to
face, when blade crosses blade and eye meets eye, and our foes had at
least an equal chance with us. We had not been used to clapping at a
dyke back and taking sighting shots at our foes.

As soon as Black MacMichael had fired, he lifted up his hand, cried
"Victory," and ran forward eagerly, as one that fires at a mark at a
wappenschaw may run to see if he has hit the target. Yet Wat and I went
not down nor took part with him, but we held our way with sore hearts
for the wickedness of this man.

Presently he came out and set after us. He cried "Hoy" many times for us
to wait for him, but we tarried not. So he took to running and, being a
powerful man and clever with his feet, he soon overtook us.

"What is the push?" he cried, panting. "I hit the skulker that watched
for us from behind a rock. I keeled him over like a dog-fox on the
hillside. See what he had upon him!" And he took from off his shoulder a
very remarkable piece of ordnance which I shall presently describe.

"We want neither art nor part in your bloody deeds, James MacMichael," I
answered him. "Take yourself away, till the Lord Himself shall judge
you!"

He stood still as one astonished.

"Gosh," he said, "siccan a fash aboot killing an informer. I wad kill
them a' like toads, for my son John that they hanged upon the dule tree
of Lag. I would slay them root and branch--all the Griers of the wicked
name. O that it had been Mardrochat himself. Then indeed it had been a
fortunate shot. But he shall not escape the Black MacMichael!"

The murderer, for indeed I could not hold him less, clapped his hand
upon his breast and looked up to heaven in a way that made me think him
crazed.

"See here what I hae gotten aff him?" he cried again, like a child
pleased with a toy.

It was the instrument known as the Galloway flail. It had a five-foot
handle of stout ash, worn smooth like an axe haft with handling. Then
the "soople," or part of the flail that strikes the corn on the
threshing floor, was made of three lengths of iron, jointed together
with links of iron chain, so that in striking all this metal part would
curl round an enemy a