noon
`` Alas , that I should ever hear such words from one so young ! '' murmured Dovenald . And the old man continued his complaints until they had entered the castle gates . Under the clear sky of high noon the people of Bute had assembled on the great plain of Laws , at the margin of Loch Ascog . They had come from all parts of the island , for the word had travelled round with the swiftness of a bird 's flight that their good king , Earl Hamish , had been cruelly slain by his own brother , and all were eager not only to see the man who had done this treacherous deed , but also to hear judgment passed upon him for his crime . At the foot of the great standing stone Sir Oscar Redmain , as steward or prefect of Bute , took his seat as judge . Noble and comely he looked , holding his great glittering sword , point upward , waiting for the prisoner and his accuser .