"God help me! Is this to go unpunished? I will seek him to-morrow." And
he passed out into the dark woods.

After a few moments the boy Ranald slipped away after him to beg that he
might be allowed to go with him to-morrow. Stealing silently through the
bushes he came to where he could see the kneeling figure of his uncle
swaying up and down, and caught the sounds of words broken with groans:

"Let me go, O Lord! Let me go!" He pled now in Gaelic and again in
English. "Let not the man be escaping his just punishment. Grant me
this, O, Lord! Let me smite but once!" Then after a pause came the
words, "'Vengeance is mine saith the Lord!' Vengeance is mine! Ay, it
is the true word! But, Lord, let not this man of Belial, this Papish,
escape!" Then again, like a refrain would come the words, "Vengeance is
mine. Vengeance is mine," in ever-deeper agony, till throwing himself on
his face, he lay silent a long time.

Suddenly he rose to his knees and so remained, looking steadfastly
before him into the woods. The wind came sighing through the pines with
a wail and a sob. Macdonald shuddered and then fell on his face again.
The Vision was upon him. "Ah, Lord, it is the bloody hands and feet
I see. It is enough." At this Ranald slipped back awe-stricken to the
camp. When, after an hour, Macdonald came back into the firelight, his
face was pale and wet, but calm, and there was an exalted look in his
eyes. His men gazed at him with wonder and awe in their faces.

"Mercy on us! He will be seeing something," said Big Mack to Yankee Jim.

"Seein' somethin'? What? A bar?" inquired Yankee.