Earl Roderic looked but for a moment at Alpin, and then swinging his
bloodstained sword from right to left he passed through the crowd of
men. For the islanders, having just left the court of the mooting, were
none of them armed. So when Roderic made his way into their midst they
fell back beyond the range of his swinging blade.
They saw that he was making his way towards the shores of the lake,
which was but a few paces from where the battle had been fought. Many of
them picked up great stones and flung them after him and struck him on
the back.
"Down with the base traitor!" they cried.
But he little heeded either their missiles or their menacing cries. On
he sped until his feet were ankle deep in the mere. Then he turned round
for a moment and saw young Kenric, armed with his brother's sword, with
Sir Oscar Redmain, Allan, Duncan Graham, and many others pursuing him.
He sent up a hollow mocking laugh as he lightly sheathed his sword. Then
he waded farther into the loch and threw himself into the deeper waters,
so that only his glancing helm could be seen above the surface. As the
antlered stag, pursued by men and hounds, swims swiftly over the
mountain tarn to the safety of crag and fell, so swam Earl Roderic
before the fury of the men of Bute. And none dared follow him, for it is
said that that loch is deeper than the hills are high.
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