KENNETH RESISTS THE LAW.

Three more days glided by, spent in hunting and fishing. Max succeeded

in spearing one skate himself, and was nearly pulled out of the boat by

the curious fish as it made its final struggle for life. And then a

momentous day came, when, after spending the morning in having a

glorious sail, during which, as there was a splendid breeze, Max had

felt quite comfortable, as he sat well to windward, holding on by the

gunwale and helping to act as ballast to keep the boat from going over

under the great press of sail Kenneth insisted upon carrying, they ran

softly in under shelter of the rocks, and were approaching the castle

landing-place, when Tavish came rushing up breathlessly.

"Come oot!" he roared. "Come oot, laddies!"

"What's the matter, Tavvy? Has my father--"

"Nay, laddie; he's no' come back. Come oot! come oot!"

The boat was run in, Scoodrach left to moor her, and Kenneth leaped

ashore.

"What's wrong?" he cried, as he was saluted by a burst of baying from

the dogs, which had been waiting their master's return.

"Wrang, my laddie? She had to gang doon to Kinlochai, and there she

found ta bailies."

"What, at the farm?"

"At ta fairm, laddie, noo. An ugly, pock-faaced chief wi' hauf a dizzen

loons asked me ta way to Dunroe. He's a bailie coming to tak' ta

place."

"What? Nonsense, Tavvy!"

"Hey, but it's nae nonsense, laddie, for she met Dooncan Graeme, and

Dooncan knew her at Glasgie. She's ta bailie, and she's coming to tak'

ta Dunroe."

"Then she isn't going to have it!" cried Kenneth, flushing. "Bailiffs,

indeed! It's all some stupid mistake."

"She rin on to tall ye, but ye were awa'," panted Tavish, whose face was

streaming.

"They're just here, then?" said Kenneth excitedly.

"Na; she was askit ta way to Dunroe, and she sent them richt doon

through ta mountains, laddie; and they'll nivver get here till some ane

sets them richt."

"Bravo, Tavish! But it must be all some mistake."

"Nay, laddie, it's no meestake. Ta Chief canna pay some siller, and ta

bailie's coming to tak' Dunroe."

"Is he?" cried Kenneth fiercely. "We'll see about that. Call Long

Shon."

"She's in ta castle, laddie, getting ta auld gates to. She was going to

shut ta gates and keep ta bailie oot."

"Bravo, Tavvy! Does Grant know?"

"Oh ay, and ivery ane's helping."

"That's the beauty of having a castle to live in, Maxy. No one can get

in when the tide's up except through the old gateway; and it isn't

everybody who can manage it when the tide's down. I say, you won't

help, will you?"

"Help! of course!" cried Max excitedly. "But what are you going to do?"

"Do! shut up the old gates. They can't scale the rock, and they've got

no boats, so we'll let them besiege us. Bah! when they find the place

locked, they'll go back. Come on."

Kenneth hurried them through the house from the rock terrace, leaving

the boat swinging to the buoy, and, followed by Tavish, Scoodrach, and

the dogs, the two lads made for the old castle yard, whose outer

entrance was the only way in unless scaling ladders were brought.

Here Grant and Long Shon, with old Tonal' to help, were busily fixing

props against the old gates which had been dragged to.

"Hurray! Bravo, Grant! Well done, Shon! That's it, Tonal'! That's

fast. No one can get in here."

Max entered into the spirit of the thing with the most intense

enjoyment, following Kenneth through the mouldering old gate tower, and

up a crumbling staircase to the broken battlements, of which there was

still enough round to allow of any one walking to and fro behind the

broken crenelation, between whose teeth they could look down on any one

coming up the rocky path from the edge of the bay.

The old castle had never before looked so romantic to Max, and he

thoroughly realised now how great must have been its strength in ancient

days, towering up as it did on the huge promontory of rock, whose sides

were steep enough to save it from attack when enemies approached it from

the land, the one path being narrow, while from the other side only a

foe provided with war galleys could have landed on the terrace, and then

beneath the defenders' fire.

"We're going to have the siege of Dunroe!" cried Kenneth excitedly.

"Now, Grant, and you, Long Shon, help and get up the arms, and we'll

defend the place till my father comes."

"But ye mauna shute," said Long Shon.

"Who's going to, Shon? We'll fire something else;" and he gave orders

which the old butler, the men, and even the maids hastened to execute,

till the battlements and the broad tower over the gateway, which was

furnished with the openings called machicolations, used for dropping

missiles on an approaching enemy, were fairly well furnished with

ammunition.

"How about provisions?" cried Kenneth, as an idea suddenly struck him.

"Ou, there's plenty, Master Kenneth," said the butler grimly, as he

rather enjoyed what was going on. "There's half the deer you shot,

beside the mutton, and plenty of kippered saumon."

"Oh ay; and if they try to starve us," cried Tavish, "we can catch fush

from the rock at high water ivery day."

The preparations went merrily on, every one working in the old Highland

spirit, and seeming indued with the idea that it was a duty to defend

the home of the Chief of the Clan Mackhai against the enemy that was

expected--an enemy that must be baffled at all hazards.

Old Tonal' was the most excited of all, rushing here and there, and

getting in everybody's way. One minute he was hurrying off to fetch his

pipes, and seemed ready to blow. Then he was off again to put them

away, to come forth again and go round the castle as far as was possible

on the battlements, to see whether there was a weak spot where the foe

might get in.

He had completed one of these examinations, and then came to where

Kenneth was giving orders.

"Whusht, laddie!" he whispered confidentially.

"Hullo, Tonal', you?"

"Ay! Whusht!"

"Ready to fight, Tonal'?"

"Ay, she'll fecht! she'll fecht for ta auld hame! But whusht, laddie!"

"Eh?" cried Kenneth; "what is it?"

"Stanes, laddie, stanes."

"Stanes! what about 'em?"

"Gin ye--but whusht!--gin ye had aboot sax hundert stanes a' retty on ta

toor, she could ding them a' doon on ta caterans' heads."

"Ah, but we might break their heads, Tonal'. No, no; something softer

than that. We'll have water."

"Watter? Watter, laddie?" cried the old piper contemptuously. "D'ye

want to wash ta enemies o' ta hoose? Stanes,--gran' stanes,--and she'll

ding them doon."

"No, no, Tonal'; that will not do."

The old man stood staring in wonder and disgust as Kenneth hurried away;

but directly after he caught sight of Max, and, raising his hand and

crooking one finger, he morally took the lad into custody as he

approached him slowly.

"He will na hearken aboot ta stanes, laddie," whispered the old man

mysteriously; "but sneeshing, laddie, sneeshing?"

"He's along with Scoodrach," said Max, pointing toward the dog. "There

he goes yonder."

"Na, na, sneeshing--chust a wee pinch."

"Oh no, I have no snuff," said Max.

"Nae sneeshing!" muttered the old man, looking round; "she has nae

sneeshing!"

"Hey!" shouted Scoodrach suddenly; "here they come."

Every one hurried to one or other of the openings to look at the

approaching enemy, while Tavish stamped savagely on the stones.

"She's askit somebody and she's set 'em richt. She didna aught to be

here for hoors and hoors, if she cam' back at a'."

"Never mind, Tavish!" shouted Kenneth; "we'll soon send them to the

right-about."

"Hey, ta foe! ta foe!" yelled Tonal', throwing his hands in the air, and

yelling at the group about him, before hurrying away and disappearing in

the crumbling opening of the corner tower, high up in which he composed

his wonderful melodies for the pipes.

"Look at auld Tonal'!" cried Scoodrach; "she's gane into her hole like a

mause."

But no one turned to look at Tonal', for the enemy were approaching

fast,--eight or nine sturdy-looking men, headed by a fair, round-faced

fellow, speckled and splashed with freckles, so that his countenance was

quite yellow, out of which peered, from under a pair of rugged sandy

brows, two unpleasant-looking red-rimmed eyes, which blinked and peered

and searched about as sharply as those of a monkey, waiting for the

keeper with his daily quantum of carrot and dessert of nuts.

This man turned for a moment and said something to his followers. Then

he took off his flat Tam o' Shanter and gave his head a vicious scratch,

which seemed to have the effect of removing a little more of his hair.

This, however, was not the fact, only seeming, as his head was bare in

patches. Then, replacing his bonnet, he took out a greasy old

pocket-book, gave it a slap, and, holding his head on one side like a

magpie as he drew out the tuck, he peered in, and took out a piece of

folded paper, which he held with his teeth till he had closed and

replaced the pocket-book.

Next he took hold of the paper, thrust his hand into his coat tail,

pulled out a ragged red cotton handkerchief, and blew his nose.

Max burst into a roar of laughter, in which Kenneth joined, for to both

lads the sounding blast which followed suggested that this was the

enemy's trumpet summoning them to surrender.

The man stared, and one of his followers touched him on the shoulder.

"They're haeing the laugh at ye, mon," he said.

"Haud yer gab. They'll be laughing the ither side o' the mooth sune."

He walked right up toward the gate, and then started, for Kenneth

shouted, "Hallo!" in a sharp, half-menacing way.

"Mr Mackhai at home?" said the man.

"No, he is not. What do you want?"

"Mr Mackhai."

"Well, you can't see him; he's out. I'm his son."

"Then ye'll just come doon and show me the way in."

"You mean the way out."

"Oh no, I don't, my whipper-snapper. Is this the way?"

"No."

"Then which is?" said the man, looking to right and left.

"There is no way in for you," said Kenneth; and a murmur of applause

followed the words.

"Look ye here, my lad," said the man, holding out his paper. "D'ye see

this?"

"Oh yes, I can see it," cried Kenneth. "Here, Scoody, this gentleman

wants a light for his pipe; throw him a box of matches."

"No nonsense, please," cried the man. "I come in the name of the law.

Sandy, gang and ope that gate."

"Gin ye gang that gate," roared Tavish, "I'll break the head o' ye."

The man who had stepped forward, started back at this menacing warning,

for Tavish suddenly appeared standing up like a giant near the gateway,

with something which looked like a great stone in his hand.

"Put that doon, mon," cried the bailiff. "Ye'll be getting into

trouble. Now, young sir, come doon and ope the gate, and read this

paper. I take possession here in the name of the law."

"All right!" cried Kenneth mockingly. "Take away."

Three Boys; Or, The Chiefs of the Clan Mackhai · 第 57 / 79 题