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Kaspar’s objections were all in vain. Falcon became the more determined, the more Kaspar besought him to give up his desperate purpose; and finally the good, weak-minded fellow consented to accompany him and assist him in carrying out his plan. The hearts of both men were saddened, as they tied a rope to the horns of a beautiful cow that they had owned since she was a calf, and that was now their last piece of property; they had often refused to sell her before, because they could not bear the thought of letting her go into strange hands. But the evil spirit that now controlled Falcon’s actions triumphed over his better nature; nor did Kaspar know how to restrain him in anything.

It was now September, and the long nights of the Scottish Winter had already begun. The night clouds were driven along before the raw night wind, and were banked up in masses like icebergs. Deep shadows filled the ravines between the mountains and the peat-bogs, and the troubled channels of the streams appeared black and fearful. Falcon led the way and Strumpf followed, shuddering at his own boldness. Tears filled Kaspar’s eyes as often as he looked at the poor creature that was going so unconsciously and trustfully to its death, to be dealt it by the hand that had always fed and caressed it.

With much difficulty they entered a narrow marshy valley, which was here and there strewn with rocks, with patches of moss and heathers, and was shut in by a chain of wild mountains whose outlines were lost in a gray mist, and whose steep sides had seldom been ascended by a human foot. They approached a large rock in the centre of the valley over the shaking bog, from which a frightened eagle flew screaming into the sky. The poor cow lowed, as if aware of the terrors of the place and the fate that awaited her. Kaspar turned aside to wipe away the fast falling tears. He looked down to the rocky opening through which they had come, from which point could be heard the breakers on the distant coast, and then up to the mountain peaks, upon which a coal-black cloud had settled, from which might be heard from time to time dull mutterings of thunder. As he looked toward Falcon he found that his friend had made the cow fast to the rock, and now stood with uplifted ax in the very act of dealing her death blow.

This was too much for Kaspar. Wringing his hands, he fell upon his knees. “For God’s sake, William Falcon!” shouted he in despairing tones, “save yourself! Spare the cow! Save yourself and me! Save your soul! Save your life! And if you will persist in tempting God, wait at least until to-morrow and sacrifice some other animal than our own cow!”

“Kaspar, are you crazy?” shrieked Falcon, like a madman, while he still held the ax swinging in the air. “Shall I spare the cow and starve?”

“You shall not starve,” answered Kaspar, resolutely. “As long as I have hands you shall not suffer hunger. I will work for you day and night, so that you do not endanger the peace of your soul, and let the poor creature live for my sake!”

“Then take the ax and split my head!” shouted Falcon, in desperation. “I won’t move from this spot until I have what I desire. Can you raise the treasures of the Carmilhan for me? Can your hands earn more than the merest necessaries of life? But you can put an end to my misery. Come, and let me be the victim!”

“William, kill the cow, kill me! It does not matter to me, I was only anxious about the salvation of your soul. Alas! this was the altar of the Picts, and the sacrifice that you would bring belongs to the darkness.”