ute, showing that
the lord of Bute acknowledges his vassalage. In like manner, the lord of
Arran delivers each year two dead eagles, and the lord of Islay a roll
of homespun cloth. So may his Majesty know that his subjects remain true
to him."

"Ah, heard you those lusty shouts?" broke in Ailsa, as the hum of many
voices reached their ears. "'Tis surely the young king that they are
hailing. Spur on the horse, for I would not willingly miss the sight of
his arrival."

"'Tis but some wrestler thrown," said her father. "We shall be at the
Stone of Destiny long ere Kenric leaves his castle gates."

Nevertheless, he urged on the horse, and soon they were in the midst of
the vast crowd of islanders who had assembled on the great plain to
elect their new king.

Sir Oscar, dismounting, took his place by the throne, and when the court
was duly fenced and the ruthmen had taken their places, each at his
particular stone, the islanders crowded round in a circle that all might
see. Ailsa and Allan were behind their father, and near them were Lulach
and Aasta the Fair, with Elspeth Blackfell and many hillmen and
dalesmen, with their women. And nearest to the fence cord, so that their
elders could see above their curly heads, were the little children of
Bute, who had been brought from far and near, to the end that when they
were old and gray headed they might have it to say, "When I was a child,
so high, my mother carried me to Loch Ascog side, and there I saw young
Kenric made king of Bute, and it was the lordliest sight that ever was
seen in the island; for Kenric was a true-born king, and the wisest and
noblest of all our rulers, and all who saw him on that great day
foretold that it would be so."

Not long had the people waited when they saw a stately company of
men-at-arms advancing, and at their head rode Kenric, mounted on a white
charger. Not now did he appear in the lowly garments of deerskin or with
ill-strung buskins or tangled hair. He wore a helm of burnished brass,
crested with a pair of golden wings; his well-combed brown hair
fluttered in the breeze. Thrown over his shoulder, and half concealing
his bright shirt of scale mail, was a plaid of silk. There were silver
buckles on his tanned shoes, and below his bare knees his legs were
swathed in fine lawn, cross-gartered with red silk bands.

A great cheer rose in the calm air and echoed and re-echoed far away
among the crags of Loch Striven as Kenric sprang lightl