of the just!" he cried, bringing down the weapon upon
Roderic's breast.

But Roderic of Gigha laughed a mocking laugh, and catching Alpin by the
wrist he threw him backward. Duncan Graham broke his fall and tore the
weapon from his grasp.

"Oh, foolish lad!" he murmured, "to attempt such a thing within the very
fences of the court!"

"Alpin of Bute," said the judge gravely as he rose from his seat, "you
have done that which no other man in this land might do without the
severest punishment. You are here to plead the cause of justice, and not
to insult those whom you have summoned to this place to do justice for
you. Bear yourself discreetly, or resign your cause into the hands of
those who can control their wrath."

Alpin scowled as he again took his place before the judge, and then when
silence had been restored he proceeded to state the whole case
concerning the killing of his father.

By his side stood Kenric, who helped him when he faltered in his
narrative. The two brothers might almost have been mistaken for master
and serf, so much did their appearance differ. Kenric's face was
unwashed and streaked with the traces of tears. His brown hair, lighter
than Alpin's, was rough and tangled, and now, as always, he wore no
covering on his head. His coarse buckskin coat looked mean beside the
richer apparel of his brother, and his buskins were ill-tied and his
kilt was dusty and tattered. The elder brother was taller and more lithe
of body; but Kenric's bare arms and legs were thick and strong, and
despite his coarse clothing he bore himself no less nobly upright than
did Alpin.

"Roderic, son of Alpin, what have you to say in defence for this grave
crime whereof you are accused?" asked Sir Oscar Redmain when Alpin had
told his tale.

The two lads stepped back and Roderic took their place. His long golden
hair as the sunlight fell upon it shone scarcely less bright than the
well-wrought dragon that twined its scaled form upon his burnished helm
of brass. He looked towards his judge with bold defiance in his blue eyes.

"What the boy says is true," said he. "I slew my brother Hamish. I slew
him upon his own hearth stone. But it was in fair fight that I did it;
and I call my two friends, the lords of Jura and Colonsay, to bear me
out in the truth of what I say."

There was a loud howl of rage from the crowd as he spoke these false
words, and no one tried to stifle those outbursts of popular feeling.

"'Tis a li