speth already busy in her work of nursing his mother
hack to health. So skilful was the old woman in this, that in the space
of two days the Lady Adela was fully restored, and able to hear the sad
news of how her favourite son had fallen under Roderic's sword.

Of the burial of Hamish and Alpin, and of the solemn rites attending
that ceremony, there is no need to tell. Noble and true were they both,
and well-beloved for their worthiness. But they are dead, and so, as the
old scalds would say, have passed out of the story.

CHAPTER XII. HOW KENRIC WAS MADE KING.

On a day in June, Ailsa Redmain, well arrayed, went forth from Kilmory
riding behind her father, Sir Oscar, on his sturdy horse. Beside them
walked her brother Allan, with a long staff in his hand, a plaid over
his broad shoulder, and a tall feather in his bonnet.

It was one of the calmest of summer days. The warm sweet smell of the
whin bloom was in the air. The lark sang merrily in the clear sky, and
across the smooth, glassy surface of Ascog loch the herons flew with
heavy, indolent wings.

Seeing a pair of these birds flying near, Sir Oscar turned to his son.

"Were we not otherwise employed," said he, "this were a glorious day,
Allan, on which to fly our young hawks at these herons. The birds will
lose their cunning if they be not better exercised. Know you if poor
Alpin had set aside a pair of gerfalcons for his Majesty's tribute?"

"'Tis but seven days ago that we were out together, Alpin and I," said
Allan, "and never saw I a better trained pair of hawks than those that
are now in keeping at Rothesay against the time when the tribute must be
paid. We took seven birds that rose from the heronry of Barone. Alas!
had Alpin but lived I had hoped to accompany him into Scotland that I
might see King Alexander. But 'tis ever so with me. Never yet have I
been able to make that journey."

"But," said Ailsa, "when Kenric has been throned, will not he also need
to pay yearly homage to the King of Scots, even as his father was wont
to do?"

"Assuredly," said Sir Oscar. "The king of Bute is so bound by his
vassalage, and it were a sorry day for him if he should fail to observe
the usages which custom has ordained. So soon as Kenric can do so, he
will take his tribute of falcons to King Alexander, and Allan might even
accompany him."

"But are there no falcons in Scotland, father?" asked Ailsa.

"Plenty there are, my child. 'Tis but the form of trib