The strain ceased. The two clumps of green branches remained motionless. Slowly at last the larger moved forward. It was too dark for the swimmer to see if any one lay hid behind the smaller. When he reached it he thrust aside the leaves. It was as though a great salmon leaped. There was a splash, and a narrow dark body shot through the gloom. At the end of it something gleamed. Then suddenly there was a savage struggle. The inanimate green branches tore this way and that, and surged and swirled. Gasping cries came from the leaves. Again and again the gleaming thing leaped. At the third leap an awful scream shrilled through the silence. The echo of it wailed thrice with horrible distinctness in the corrie beyond Cnoc-an-Fhraoch. Then, after a faint splashing, there was silence once more. One clump of green branches drifted loosely up the lochlet. The other moved steadily towards the place whence, a brief while before, it had stirred. Only one thing lived in the heart of Gloom Achanna--the joy of his exultation. He had killed his brother Sheumais. He had always hated him because of his beauty; of late he had hated him because he had stood between him, Gloom, and Katreen Macarthur, because he had become her lover. They were all dead now except himself--all the Achannas. He was “Achanna.” When the day came that he would go back to Galloway there would be a magpie on the first birk, and a screaming jay on the first rowan, and a croaking raven on the first fir. Ay, he would be their suffering, though they knew nothing of him meanwhile! He would be Achanna of Achanna again. Let those who would stand in his way beware. As for Katreen: perhaps he would take her there, perhaps not. He smiled. These thoughts were the wandering fires in his brain while he slowly swam shoreward under the floating green branches, and as he disengaged himself from them, and crawled upward through the bracken. It was at this moment that a third man entered the water from the farther shore. Prepared as he was to come suddenly upon Katreen, Gloom was startled when, in a place of dense shadow, a hand touched his shoulder, and her voice whispered, “_Sheumais, Sheumais!_” The next moment she was in his arms. He could feel her heart beating against his side. “What was it, Sheumais? What was that awful cry?” she whispered. For answer he put his lips to hers, and kissed her again and again. The girl drew back. Some vague instinct warned her. “What is it, Sheumais? Why don’t you speak?” He drew her close again. “Pulse of my heart, it is I who love you--I who love you best of all. It is I, Gloom Achanna!” With a cry, she struck him full in the face. He staggered, and in that moment she freed herself. “You _coward_!” “Katreen, I …” “Come no nearer. If you do, it will be the death of you!” “The death o’ me! Ah, bonnie fool that you are, and is it you that will be the death o’ me?”