So I beg you, my lord Kenric -- and you also, Allan --
rest you here in our castle until Sir Piers returns."
"Yes, Kenric, stay, and I will show you my new bow, and you shall see
how well I can now aim," said little Fergus (the same who in the
aftertime fought so valiantly at Bannockburn).
"No," said Kenric, "I cannot stay, for on the morrow I must even be back
in Bute to take my seat at the assize that has been called, and I would
not willingly neglect the first duty that has fallen to me."
"Why, then," said Allan Redmain, "let us both to the mountains, my lord.
There is no pass or crag in the north of Arran that my foot has not
trod, and it will go hard if we find not Sir Piers in a few hours' time."
Thereupon Kenric and Allan, leaving their four men at the castle, walked
round by the shore side to Glen Catacol, and through a gloomy pass that
led far up into the craggy mountains, where the eagle reigned on high
and the red deer ran wild and free.
Now Allan Redmain was a most venturesome youth. He was taller by a head
than Kenric, strong of limb and surefooted as a mountain goat. Heedless
of the danger into which he was taking his king, he led the way into the
wildest fastnesses of Ben Bharrain, by paths that even the hunted stag
might fear to tread.
In vain did they search for any sign that would bring them to Sir Piers
de Currie and his band of hunters.
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