applied if regularly constituted authority did not step in. As the
murder of Perrin had created great indignation among the half-breeds,
and the feeling about it was increasing, the Company resolved to clear
the matter up by having the supposed murderer tried. Duncan was
accordingly lodged in one of the bastions of Fort Garry, where, when
visited by the Governor, he firmly denied his guilt.

The arrest of his younger son on such a charge fell very heavily on poor
Duncan McKay senior--more heavily than those who knew him would have
expected. It touched not only his feelings but his pride; for was he
not a lineal descendant of that Fergus McKay who had been a chief in one
of the Western Isles of Scotland--he could not tell which, but no
matter--at that celebrated period of Scottish history when the great
Norse king, Harold Fairhair, had made a descent on the Scottish coast
and received one of the few thorough thrashings that darkened his
otherwise successful career?

"O! Tuncan, Tuncan, my boy!" cried the old man, shoving his hands
deeper into his breeches pockets, and apostrophising his imprisoned son
as he walked up and down in the privacy of his own bedroom. "O that wan
o' the name should come to such disgrace! An' it's denyin' it you will
be, whether you are guilty or innocent. O Tuncan, Tuncan! you wass ever
notorious for tellin' lies--an' a troublesome boy all round--whatever."

But when the old man went to Fort Garry and visited his son, he stifled
his pathetic feelings, and appeared before him with all the offended
dignity of an injured member of the great clan McKay.

"Are you guilty, Tuncan?" he asked, sternly.

"No, I'm innocent," answered the youthful Highlander, with a brow quite
as stern and a manner as dignified as the old one.

"You will hev to prove that--whatever."

"No--they will hev to prove me guilty," retorted the son.

"I wish I could believe ye, Tuncan."

"It iss not of much consequence whether ye believe me or not, father.
You are not to be my chudge--whatever."

"That is goot luck for you, Tuncan, for if I wass your chudge I would be
bound to condemn you--you wass always so fond o' tellin' lies."

"It iss true what you say, father. It iss a chip o' the old block that
I am--more's the peety." At this point the door of the prison opened,
and Elspie was ushered in.

"You here, father!" she exclaimed in evident surprise. "I had hoped to
see Duncan alone."

"It iss alone with