Neil crept from rock to rock till he reached the last fang that churns the sea into yeast when the tide sucks the land just opposite.
Then he called out something that Aulay Macneill could not catch. With that he springs up, and throws his arms above him.
“Then,” says Aulay when he tells the tale, “it was like a ghost he was. The moonshine was on his face like the curl o’ a wave. White! there is no whiteness like that of the human face. It was whiter than the foam about the skerry it was; whiter than the moon shining; whiter than … well, as white as the painted letters on the black boards of the fishing-cobles. There he stood, for all that the sea was about him, the slip-slop waves leapin’ wild, and the tide making, too, at that. He was shaking like a sail two points off the wind. It was then that, all of a sudden, he called in a womany, screamin’ voice—
“‘I am throwing the sins of Adam Blair into the midst of ye, white dogs o’ the sea! Drown them, tear them, drag them away out into the black deeps! Ay, ay, ay, ye dancin’ wild waves, this is the third time I am doing it, and now there is none left; no, not a sin, not a sin!
“‘O-hi, O-ri, dark tide o’ the sea,
I am giving the sins of a dead man to thee!
By the Stones, by the Wind, by the Fire, by the Tree,
From the dead man’s sins set me free, set me free!
Adam mhic Anndra mhic Adam and me,
Set us free! Set us free!’