"Well, old sea-wolf," said he with a wicked grin, as he prepared to lower himself over the rail, "you have said nothing, but I see a gleam in your eyes; do you also wish to accompany me? Surely the Dalriadians could have nothing but welcome for so kind a friend who has burnt their villages and sunk their hide-bottomed boats."

Wulfhere cursed him heartedly. "We seafarers are so well loved by the Scots that my red beard alone would be enough to hang me. But even so, were I not captain of this ship, and bound by duty to it, I'd chance it rather than see you go into danger alone, and you such an empty-headed fool!"

Cormac laughed deeply. "Wait for me until dawn," he instructed, "and no longer."

Then, dropping from the after rail, he struck out for the shore, swimming strongly in spite of his mail and weapons. He swam along the base of the cliffs and presently found a shelving ledge from which a steep incline led upward. It might have taxed the agility of a mountain goat to have made the ascent there, but Cormac was not inclined to make the long circuit about the promontory. He climbed straight upward and, after a considerable strain of energy and skill, he gained the top of the cliffs and made his way along them to the point where they joined a steep ridge on the mainland. Down the southern slope of this he made his way toward the distant twinkle of fires that marked the Dalriadian town of Ara.

He had not taken half a dozen steps when a sound behind him brought him about, blade at the ready. A huge figure bulked dimly in the starlight.

"Hrut! What in the name of seven devils-"

"Wulfhere sent me after you," rumbled the big carle. "He feared harm might come to you."

Cormac was a man of irascible temper. He cursed Hrut and Wulfhere impartially. Hrut listened stolidly and Cormac knew the futility of arguing with him. The big Dane was a silent, moody creature whose mind had been slightly affected by a sword-cut on the head. But he was brave and loyal and his skill at woodcraft was second only to Cormac's.