"What is your suit?" asked the king.

"It is," said the farmer, "that, ten days since, my watchdog was cruelly
slain. He was the best watchdog in all Bute, and never dared beast of
prey or man of stealth come near my homestead but to his hurt. But,
since my dog has been slain, three gimmer sheep, and two ewe lambs, and
four young goats have been carried off by the wolves. And my good wife
Marjory has lost seven of her best chickens, that have been taken by the
foxes."

"Who is the man that so cruelly slew your dog?" asked Kenric.

"It was young Allan Redmain of Kilmory, and him do I charge," said the
farmer.

"Allan Redmain!" exclaimed Kenric, in alarm at the thought of sitting in
judgment upon his own friend.

Then he stirred uneasily in his seat, and bit his lips in trying to see
a way of escape out of his difficulty. He had sworn lasting friendship
for Allan, and remembering the adventure of the day before, when Allan
had risked his life for him, he could not bear the thought of giving
sentence of punishment if it should be proved that Allan was guilty.
Thrown thus betwixt friendship and duty, he sat for many moments in
silent thought, wishing that he was no longer a king who had bound
himself to do justice to all men. But at last he called aloud for Allan
Redmain, and Allan promptly appeared, albeit with lowered head and
guilty looks.