The assize being sworn and admitted the abbot stepped forward and called upon the God of the Christians to punish the peace breaker. Then the crowd opened and young Alpin came in, stalwart, handsome, noble, and bowed before the judge.
He wore a mantle of tartan, clasped at the shoulder by a silver buckle. His legs were swathed in fine cloth and cross-gartered below the bare knees, and his feet were encased in brogues with silver clasps. His long hair was well combed, and it hung about his broad shoulders in dark brown locks. A deep hum of praise rose in greeting from many throats as he stood in the light of the noonday sun.
"Hail to Earl Alpin, king of Bute!" cried one.
"Long life to the king!" cried another; and the cries were taken up by the whole assembly, dying away in echoes among the far-off hills.
Then Alpin raised his hand and asked that the chain of silence should be shaken; and when one of the guards had shaken the rattling chains and all were listening with bated breath he took up and made his plea, demanding prompt justice on the slayer of his father.
"And whom do you charge with this foul crime?" asked Sir Oscar Redmain, though indeed none needed to be told.
"I charge Roderic MacAlpin, king of Gigha," said Alpin, and at that there was a great yell of execration.
"Down with the traitor! Death to him!" was the cry as the crowd opened.
And Alpin turning round saw Duncan Graham -- taller by a head than the tallest man there present -- leading in the criminal, followed by his two companions of Colonsay and Jura.
In a moment Alpin sprang forward at his enemy. He raised his right hand and all saw that he held the bloodstained knife.