"Now kindle me the fire," he said. "Here are flint and steel.

"And, Kenric, give me the arrow."

He took the arrow in his hand and waited till the fire was well alight.
With the arrow's point he stirred the flaming twigs, and the two youths
looked on.

"And now take your dirk, Alpin," said he, "and slay me the kid. Give as
little pain as may be, for it is not well that the innocent thing should
suffer."

Kenric held the animal while his brother drove his sharp dirk into its
white and throbbing throat. The kid turned its soft blue eyes upon him
and gave a plaintive bleat. Its warm breath rose visible in the morning
air and then died away.

"'Tis done!" said Kenric, and Dovenald brought the burning arrow and
extinguished it in the kid's blood. With the innocent blood he smeared
the arrow's shaft.

"Fly now as speedily as your feet can carry you to the castle of
Kilmory," said the old man to Alpin, giving him the arrow, "and you will
give this burnt arrow into the hands of Sir Oscar Redmain. No need have
you to tell him the meaning thereof. It is a summons ordained by ancient
custom, and well known to all the wise men of Bute. Sir Oscar will
despatch it to our good father the abbot of St. Blane's. The abbot will
in like manner send it to Ronald Gray of Scoulag. So, in turn, will it
pass round to each of the twelve wise ruthmen, calling them one and all