Alpin started back and grew pale.
"Fair mother," said he, "what may this mean?"
"Take this fatal knife," said she, "and before the blood is dry upon its blade drive it into the murderer's black heart."
Then Alpin, holding the knife, raised his mother in his arms.
"Dear mother," said he, "you have given me a great charge, and here I promise you I shall be avenged upon Earl Roderic ere long, and that do I promise to God and to you."
"Nay, mother," appealed Kenric, stepping forward. "In mercy I beg you, charge not my brother with so terrible a mission. Withdraw it, I beseech you, for you know not what you do in thus exposing Alpin to both danger and dishonour. For if he take vengeance by stealth, then is his treachery as evil as that of the murderer whom he would punish. If he challenge this man to mortal combat, then most surely he will be slain, for Roderic, as I have seen, is most powerful of arm, and it is his heart's desire that he should slay my brother, whose death he has already planned. If you would indeed have this man die, then I entreat you let me, and not Alpin, fulfill your behest. Alpin is now our rightful king, and his life is of more value than mine."
Now while Kenric was thus speaking his mother remained in Alpin's arms, with her head upon his shoulder. And when Alpin drew away his arm that she might answer Kenric face to face, she turned not round, but sank down at Alpin's feet, and it was seen that she was in a swoon.
So Alpin carried her away in his strong arms to her chamber, where the women of the castle tended her. But for three long days and nights she lay on her couch in a strange sickness that none could understand. For those three days she was unconscious, speaking never a word.
[CHAPTER VII. THE ARROW OF SUMMONS.]
How the three island kings fared in the dark dungeons of the castle of Rothesay on that fatal night need not be told. Earl Roderic of Gigha had doubtless in his sea rovings slept on many a less easy couch. But it may be that in those dark hours of solitude his mind was more disturbed than were his hardy limbs. He had come to Bute full of a guilty design, by the fulfilment of which he had hoped to at last gain possession of the rich dominions that he had coveted for twenty years. His own inheritance of the small island of Gigha was not enough to satisfy his vaulting ambition, and the growing power of the King of Norway, who was year by year extending his territories in the west of Scotland, offered a further inducement to Roderic, who believed that by slaying his brother Hamish, and taking his place, he might bring the island of Bute under the protection of the Norwegian crown.