not willingly neglect the first duty that has fallen to me."

"Why, then," said Allan Redmain, "let us both to the mountains, my lord.
There is no pass or crag in the north of Arran that my foot has not
trod, and it will go hard if we find not Sir Piers in a few hours' time."

Thereupon Kenric and Allan, leaving their four men at the castle, walked
round by the shore side to Glen Catacol, and through a gloomy pass that
led far up into the craggy mountains, where the eagle reigned on high
and the red deer ran wild and free.

Now Allan Redmain was a most venturesome youth. He was taller by a head
than Kenric, strong of limb and surefooted as a mountain goat. Heedless
of the danger into which he was taking his king, he led the way into the
wildest fastnesses of Ben Bharrain, by paths that even the hunted stag
might fear to tread.

In vain did they search for any sign that would bring them to Sir Piers
de Currie and his band of hunters. No sound of rallying horn, no voice
of man reached their ears, but only the drumming cry of the wild grouse
or the short sharp bark of the fox; and when, after much scraping of
bare knees, they scaled the steep mountain's peak and stood upon the
lofty height, where the heather grew crisp and short, they sat down and
let the cool wind blow against their flushed faces. Then with keen eyes
they scanned each crag and fell, searching in gully and glen, in hollow
and on height. But though they saw many herds of deer, yet of huntsmen
they saw no sign.

"Methinks, Allan," said Kenric, "that 'tis but a foolish thing we have
done to come on this fruitless journey. One might wander for a week upon