“My lad, 'Vengeance is mine saith the Lord.' It would have pleased me well, but the hand of the Lord was laid upon me and I could not kill him.” “Then it is myself will kill him,” he shrieked, springing like a wildcat at LeNoir. But his uncle wound his arms around him and held him fast. For a minute and more he struggled fiercely, crying to be set free, till recognizing the uselessness of his efforts he grew calm, and said quietly, “Let me loose, uncle; I will be quiet.” And his uncle set him free. The boy shook himself, and then standing up before LeNoir said, in a high, clear voice: “Will you hear me, LeNoir? The day will come when I will do to you what you have done to my father, and if my father will die, then by the life of God [a common oath among the shanty-men] I will have your life for it.” His voice had an unearthly shrillness in it, and LeNoir shrank back. “Whist, whist, lad! be quate!” said his uncle; “these are not goot words.” The lad heeded him not, but sank down beside his father on the floor. Black Hugh raised himself on his elbow with a grim smile on his face. “It is a goot lad whatever, but please God he will not need to keep his word.” He laid his hand in a momentary caress upon his boy's shoulder, and sank back again, saying, “Take me out of this.” Then Macdonald Bhain turned to Dan Murphy and gravely addressed him: “Dan Murphy, it is an ungodly and cowardly work you have done this day, and the curse of God will be on you if you will not repent.” Then he turned away, and with Big Mack's help bore his brother to the pointer, followed by his men, bloody, bruised, but unconquered. But before he left the room LeNoir stepped forward, and offering his hand, said, “You mak friends wit' me. You de boss bully on de reever Hottawa.” Macdonald neither answered nor looked his way, but passed out in grave silence. Then Yankee Jim remarked to Dan Murphy, “I guess you'd better git them logs out purty mighty quick. We'll want the river in about two days.” Dan Murphy said not a word, but when the Glengarry men wanted the river they found it open. But for Macdonald the fight was not yet over, for as he sat beside his brother, listening to his groans, his men could see him wreathing his hands and chanting in an undertone the words, “Vengeance is mine saith the Lord.” And as he sat by the camp-fire that night listening to Yankee's account of the beginning of the trouble, and heard how his brother had kept himself in hand, and how at last he had been foully smitten, Macdonald's conflict deepened, and he rose up and cried aloud: “God help me! Is this to go unpunished? I will seek him to-morrow.” And he passed out into the dark woods. After a few moments the boy Ranald slipped away after him to beg that he might be allowed to go with him to-morrow. Stealing silently through the bushes he came to where he could see the kneeling figure of his uncle swaying up and down, and caught the sounds of words broken with groans: