He opened, and there stood a man without, wild and dishevelled, who told how he had slain a man in a fray, and was flying from his pursuers.
"'Give me help and shelter!' he implored; and my father drew him in and closed the door, and promised to hide him.

'Swear on your dirk not to give me up!' he implored; and my father swore, though with him his word was ever his bond.

He hid the fugitive in a secret place, and hardly had he done so before there was another loud knocking at the door.
"This time it was the pursuers, hot on the track of the murderer.
'He has slain your cousin Donald,' they told him.

'He cannot be far away.

We are hunting for him.