’Thou tower of Ardstinchar,’ he cried, lifting up a voice like the wind whistling through scrannel pipes, ’they have burned you that erstwhile burned me. Curse me Cassillis and the Lords of it! Curse me all that cleave to it, for their tender mercies are cruel. I, Allan Stewart, sometime Abbot of Crossraguel, lay my curse bitterly upon them for the cruel burning they gave me before their fire in the Black Vault of Dunure. But bless me the House of Bargany, that rescued me from torture and took me to their strong tower, wherein I have to this day found in peace a quiet abiding chamber.’ ’Mark well, boy,’ whispered my father; ’remember this to tell it in after days to your children’s children. Your eyes have seen the Abbot of Crossraguel whom the King of Carrick, the father of our Earl John, roasted quick in the vault of Dunure—a deed which has wrought mickle woe, and will yet work more.’ And even as my father spoke I saw the old cripple hirple away, the young Laird himself helping him with the kindliest courtesy. Then, last of all that spake, came a voice from one who had remained in the gloomy archway of the gate, by the entering in of the courtyard. He that broke the silence was a tall man who sat on a grey horse, and was clad from head to foot in a cloak of grey, having his face shaded with a high-crowned, broad-brimmed hat of the ancient fashion. ’Give me the Book and I also will swear an oath!’ he said, in a voice which made all turn towards him. ’Who may that man be? I ken him not,’ said my father, for he had named all the others as they came within. So one gave the man the blood-stained Bible, and he held it in his hand a moment. He was silent a space before he spoke. ’By this Christian Book and among this Christian people,’ he cried, ’I swear to root out and slay utterly all the house of Cassillis and Culzean, pursuing them, man, woman and child, with fire and sword till they die the death of pain and scorn, or I who swear die in the accomplishing of it.’ The unknown paused at the end of this terrible oath, and gazed again at the Book. The dying flame within the castle flared up for a chance moment as another rafter caught fire. ’Fauch!’ said he of the grey cloak, looking at the Bible in his hand, ’there is blood upon thee. Go thou into the burning as the seal of our oaths. A bloody Bible is no Christian book!’ And with that he threw the Bible into the red embers that glowed sullenly within the tower. There broke a cry of horror from all that saw. For though in this dark land of Carrick deeds of blood were done every day, this Bible-burning was accounted rank blasphemy and ungodly sacrilege. But I was not prepared for its effect upon my father. He trembled in all his limbs, and I felt the stones shake upon which he now leaned breast high, careless who should see him. ’This is fair devil’s work,’ he muttered. ’The fires of Sodom, the brimstone of Gomorrah shall light upon us all for this deed!’