"Long may that peace abide," said Kenric. "And now do I leave my kinsman, William MacAlpin, as my chosen steward and governor over my lands and as the defender of my people."
Kenric then went on board Sir Piers de Currie's ship, taking a fisherman of Gigha to act as pilot, and they left the rest of their barks at anchor in the quiet bay under the care of Allan Redmain.
The Eagle galley then unattended made sail across the wide channel westward towards Islay, whose high hills could already be seen like blue mists upon the far-off sea line.
"Now, my young valiant," said Sir Piers to Harald the hostage, who sat upon the after deck looking wistfully over the tumbling waters, "know you the colour of your native hills?"
"Well indeed do I know that," said the lad, "and by your course I now judge that you are indeed taking me home, for which I am most truly thankful. My sojourn in your country has been little to my taste. Well will it be for the lord of Bute, ay, and for his Majesty of Scots also, if I take not a bitter revenge for all that I have suffered at their hands. But, prithee, turn your ship's head yet more to the southward to catch the current of Loch Andail, and so gain a few minutes' time. St. Olaf, how my heart beats at sight of those hills! Ah, how the moments lag! speed on, speed on!"
"Patience, patience, Harald, you are not landed yet," said the knight. "And should your good father not choose to agree to our terms, then back you go to Scotland as speedily as we came."
"Let me but see my father and he will agree," said Harald.
"Let your father agree and he will see you," returned Sir Piers.
"Look you," said the lad with flashing eyes, "if you put me not upon the shores of Islay in two hours' time, then by the soul of St. Olaf I will slay every man in your ship. As to the lord of Bute, I will haul him up by a rope's end to your masthead!"
"So ho!" said Kenric, "methinks, Sir Piers, that this little dog might now have a chain about his pretty neck. What say you?"