"Do you not see what he has done?" he continued, pointing to his father,
who was still lying propped up on some coats. "Why did you not break his
back? You said you would! The brute, beast!"

He hurled out the words in hot hate. His voice pierced the noise of the
room. Macdonald stood still, gazing at the fierce, dark face in solemn
silence. Then he sadly shook his head.

"My lad, 'Vengeance is mine saith the Lord.' It would have pleased me
well, but the hand of the Lord was laid upon me and I could not kill
him."

"Then it is myself will kill him," he shrieked, springing like a wildcat
at LeNoir. But his uncle wound his arms around him and held him fast.
For a minute and more he struggled fiercely, crying to be set free,
till recognizing the uselessness of his efforts he grew calm, and said
quietly, "Let me loose, uncle; I will be quiet." And his uncle set him
free. The boy shook himself, and then standing up before LeNoir said, in
a high, clear voice:

"Will you hear me, LeNoir? The day will come when I will do to you what
you have done to my father, and if my father will die, then by the life
of God [a common oath among the shanty-men] I will have your life for
it." His voice had an unearthly shrillness in it, and LeNoir shrank
back.

"Whist, whist, lad! be quate!" said his uncle; "these are not goot
words." The lad heeded him not, but sank down beside his father on the
floor. Black Hugh raised himself on his elbow with a grim smile on his
face.