VENGEANCE IS MINE
"LeNoir, " he said, solemnly, "the days of your boasting are over. You will no longer glory in your strength, for now I will break your back to you."
LeNoir tried to speak, but his voice came in horrible gurgles. His face was a ghastly greenish hue, lined with purple and swollen veins, his eyes were standing out of his head, and his breath sobbing in raucous gasps. Slowly the head went back. The crowd stood in horror-stricken silence waiting for the sickening snap. Yankee, unable to stand it any longer, stepped up to his chief, and in a most matter of fact voice drawled out, "About an inch more that way I guess 'll do the trick, if he ain't double-jointed."
"Aye," said Macdonald, holding grimly on.
"Tonald,"—Black Hugh's voice sounded faint but clear in the awful silence—"Tonald—you will not—be killing—him. Remember that now. I will—never—forgive you—if you will—take that—from my hands."
The cry for vengeance smote Macdonald to the heart, and recalled him to himself. He paused, threw back his locks from his eyes, then relaxing his grip, stood up.
"God preserve me!" he groaned, "what am I about?"
For some time he remained standing silent, with head down as if not quite sure of himself. He was recalled by a grip of his arm. He turned and saw his nephew, Ranald, at his side. The boy's dark face was pale with passion.
"And is that all you are going to do to him?" he demanded. Macdonald gazed at him.
37
