"Who says he is guilty?"
"Yourself said as much a moment since."
"Have I said so? What did I say? They had no cause of quarrel—Dan and Ewan. They loved each other. But I can not think. My head aches. I fear my mind is weakened by these terrible events."
The Bishop pressed his forehead hard, like a man in bodily pain, but the Deemster showed no ruth.
"It is now for you to put the father aside and let the priest-judge come forward. It is your duty to God and your Church. Cast your selfish interests behind you and quit yourself like one to whom all eyes look up. The Bishop has a sacred mission. Fulfil it. You have punished offenders against God's law and the Church's rule beforetime. Don't let it be said that the laws of God and Church are to pass by the house of their Bishop."
"Pity, pity! have pity," the Bishop murmured.
"Set your own house in order, or with what courage will you ever again dare to intrude upon the houses of your people? Now is your time to show that you can practise the hard doctrine that you have preached. Send him to the scaffold—yes, to the scaffold—"
The Bishop held up his two hands and cried: "Listen, listen. What would it avail you though my son's life were given in forfeit for the life of your son? You never loved Ewan. Ah! it is true, as Heaven is my witness, you never loved him. While I shall have lost two sons at a blow. Are you a Christian, to thirst like this for blood? It is not justice you want; it is vengeance. But vengeance belongs to God."
"Is he not guilty?" the Deemster answered. "And is it not your duty and mine to punish the guilty?"
But the Bishop went on impetuously, panting as he spoke, and in a faint, broken tone: