with my late wicked follies, into which, since the death of my mother, I
had fallen. And now I was bringing him no college prize, but a blood-
feud, which he was like to find an ill heritage enough, even without an
evil and thankless son. My stepmother, too, who loved me little, would
inflame his anger against me. Many daughters he had, and of gear and
goods no more than enough. Robin, my elder brother, he had let pass to
France, where he served among the men of John Kirkmichael, Bishop of
Orleans--he that smote the Duke of Clarence in fair fight at Bauge.

Thinking of my father, and of my stepmother's ill welcome, and of Robin,
abroad in the wars against our old enemy of England, it may be that I
fell into a kind of half dream, the boat lulling me by its movement on
the waters. Suddenly I felt a crashing blow on my head. It was as if
the powder used for artillery had exploded in my mouth, with flash of
light and fiery taste, and I knew nothing. Then, how long after I could
not tell, there was water on my face, the blue sky and the blue tide were
spinning round--they spun swiftly, then slowly, then stood still. There
was a fierce pain stounding in my head, and a voice said--

"That good oar-stroke will learn you to steal boats!"

I knew the voice; it was that of a merchant sailor-man with whom, on the
day before, I had quarrelled in the market-place. Now I was lying at the
bottom of a boat which four seamen, who had rowed up to me and had broken
my head as I meditated, were pulling towards a merchant-vessel, or
carrick, in the Eden-mouth. Her sails were being set; the boat wherein I
lay was towing that into which I had leaped after striking down Melville.
For two of the ship's men, being on shore, had hailed their fellows in
the carrick, and they had taken vengeance upon me.