There was nothing to show that within the small space between him and
Garroch Head were collected together many hundreds of islanders with
anxiously beating hearts -- islanders whose happy homes had been laid
waste, and who now dreaded the moment that might bring their death. Two
figures alone could Roderic see. These were the abbot Godfrey and the
old crone Elspeth Blackfell.
As the Norsemen advanced with clashing arms and regular tread the abbot
looked up in seeming surprise, as though his meditations had been
suddenly disturbed. Then he paused in his walk and turned to meet the
dreaded foe. Elspeth followed him.
With loud voice Roderic called out to his men to halt. Then alone he
went forward.
"What means all this that I see?" began the abbot with trembling voice,
"and how comes it, Roderic MacAlpin, that I behold you here in Bute with
all this strange following? Infamous man! Did you not but twelve short
months ago solemnly swear before God that you would not set foot upon
these shores again ere you had spent three years of penance in the
service of the Most High. How come you here?"
Then Roderic smiled in derision.
"How came I here? And wherefore should I come if not to claim mine own?
Wherefore should I come if not to destroy the young cub Kenric, who hath
cruelly murdered many scores of innocent dwellers in the isles.
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