She turned her gaze from the dead men; her face was utterly unmoved.
“How you hate these Campbells, Macdonald of Glencoe,” she said curiously.
He was bewildered by her note of wonder, turned it over in his mind and could think of nothing to say but:
“I am a prince of the Macdonalds.”
“God fend me from these feuds!” she cried. “My people live at peace.”
“They would not, Helen Fraser, if they were two hundred men alone in the country of the Campbells.” He looked at her over his shoulder, his color risen. “To one side of us we have MacCallum More himself—to the other Jock Campbell of Breadalbane and his vassals swarm in their hundreds—but we do no homage—because there has been no Campbell yet dare enter Glencoe.”
He had stopped with the force of his words and his fierce eyes measured her narrowly.
She gave her slow smile:
“Well—go on,” she said. “I have no call to be the Campbells’ friend.”
He went on at his steady even pace and she said no more.