udge.

"In that I slew the dog, my lord, I am guilty," said Allan. "But in that
the act was not without just cause, I am innocent. It was in the hay
field of Scalpsie, where with a companion I was walking. The dog ran up
to us as it were to attack us. My comrade shook his fist at the dog, and
thereupon it sprang at his throat, and I took out my dirk and slew the
brute."

"Brute, say you?" exclaimed the farmer. "My lord, the dog meant no
manner of harm, and it was a cruel thing to kill him so. I am now
without a watchdog, and must I needs suffer my sheep to be devoured by
the wolves because, forsooth, a hot-headed lad would use his knife upon
my poor dumb friend? I ask for redress, and redress I shall have."

"Who was the comrade of whom you speak?" asked Kenric of Allan.

"I refuse to say, my lord," said Allan firmly.

"It was your own brother Alpin who is dead, my lord," said David Blair.

"What! and you would have me punish one who so defended my own brother?"
cried Kenric. "No, David Blair, I cannot do it."

But at that the farmer protested warmly, and declared that he would have
justice done him, and that it was his lord's duty to deal fairly by all
men, notwithstanding that Allan Redmain was the son of the steward. So
there was nothing for it but for Kenric to pronounce the penalty.

"It is an old law, held sacred by custom," he falteringly said, "that if
one slays another man's watchdog, the slayer must himself protect for a
year and a day the unwatched homestead. And he is accountable to the
owner for any scathe that may befall within that period after the
slaying of the dog. This, Allan Redmain, is the penalty you must pay,
and less than this it is not in my power to impose, for law is law, and
I am but its instrument."

Then after the assize was over, Allan went to Kenric and asked him what
was now to be done concerning their projected journey into Scotland, for
that now he was condemned to act for twelve long months as a miserable
watchdog, it was no longer possible for him to leave the island, and be
absent for a night.

The same difficulty had already presented itself to Kenric, who felt
indeed that he would rather have cut off his own hand than pass that
sentence upon his friend. He looked at Allan with pleading eyes.

"Allan," he said, "how can you forgive me for this that I have done? And
how can I now help you out of this miserable dog's work? Methinks that
on the cold frosty nights when you