“I obey my commands,” answered Glenlyon, still gazing at her, “I have the letter here,” he touched his breast. “Higher than I, mistress, must answer for this day’s work; Hill, Hamilton, Breadalbane and the Master of Stair.” He smiled at her slow look of horror. “What are the Macdonalds to you?” he asked. “I came from London to warn them,” said Delia in a vague manner. “But surely it is in vain—what are you going to do?” “My orders are to slay every Macdonald under seventy—and pay particular attention to the old fox and his cubs.” “My God! oh, my God!” she slipped to her knees and clung to his stirrup in a distracted manner, with her wild eyes staring fixedly; she made no appeal beyond that cry and the agony of her glance; she knelt there ready for his horse to trample her to death. Glenlyon stooped from the saddle and loosened her hands gently; then he beckoned to one of his soldiers. “Take her away,” he said with a flushed face. “Take care of her,” and as the man lifted Delia from the ground, his gray eyes dwelt on her face in a troubled manner. She made no resistance as the man led her away, and Glenlyon turned fiercely to the Macdonalds. “Lay down yours arms and surrender,” he commanded. “I’ll not wait much longer.” They had watched his parley with the girl in silence, knowing well that there was no escape for them; that on their first movement the soldiers would fire; so they stood, gathered together with somber faces, fronting the Campbells. The snow was falling faster; the great clouds had almost obscured the mountains. Glenlyon drew out his watch. “Hamilton said five,” he muttered. It was now five minutes past; he glanced over his men; the Argyllshire regiment, all Campbells, then repeated his commands to the Macdonalds to surrender. Makian refused and a full murmur of scorn went up from the Macdonalds. “Then I shall fall on ye without mercy—men, women and children,” said Glenlyon. There was no sound from the Macdonalds save the faint wail of a frightened child; the chief stood in front of them, his sons beside him. Ronald was not there. “Fire!” cried Glenlyon. The volley of musketry echoed down the Glen; a savage cry of triumph broke from the Campbells, as, flinging their guns aside and drawing their swords, they dashed on the Macdonalds. Delia Featherstonehaugh saw the world about her struck with strange confusion; she slipped from the soldier who held her and ran blindly down the Glen through the smoke. The report of the guns echoed from the mountains, rang in her ears; she saw smoke curling from the huts and one burst suddenly into a bright flame that rose heavenwards.