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.