The untamed and angry passions which he inherited from father and mother, were awakened by the supposed hostility of those who pursued him; and the restraint under which these passions had been hitherto held by his sober judgment began gradually to give way.

The sergeant now called to him, "Hamish Bean MacTavish, lay down your arms and surrender." "Do YOU stand, Allan Breack Cameron, and command your men to stand, or it will be the worse for us all." "Halt, men," said the sergeant, but continuing himself to advance.
"Hamish, think what you do, and give up your gun; you may spill blood, but you cannot escape punishment." "The scourge--the scourge--my son, beware the scourge!" whispered his mother.
"Take heed, Allan Breack," said Hamish.

"I would not hurt you willingly, but I will not be taken unless you can assure me against the Saxon lash." "Fool!" answered Cameron, "you know I cannot.

Yet I will do all I can.

I will say I met you on your return, and the punishment will be light; but give up your musket--Come on, men." Instantly he rushed forward, extending his arm as if to push aside the young man's levelled firelock.