soldier's head, which went through the trap-door like
Jack-out-of-the-box being shut down again.

"Tak' the skylight for it, William," Sandy cried. "I'll e'en gang doon
an' see what this loon wants!"

So snatching a sword that lay upon the boards by his side, Sandy went
down the trap after his man. I heard him fall mightily upon the two
soldiers to whom had been committed the keeping of the house that night.
In that narrow place he gripped them both with the first claucht of his
great arms, and dadded their heads together, exhorting them all the time
to repent and think on their evil ways.

"Wad ye, then, vermin," he cried as one and another tried to get at him
with their weapons round the narrow edge of the well-curb; and I heard
one after another of their tools clatter down the masonry of the well,
and plump into the water at the bottom. The men were in their heavy
marching gear, being ready at all times for the coming of Clavers, who
was a great man for discipline, and very particular that the soldiers
should always be properly equipped whenever it might please him to
arrive. And because he loved night marches and sudden surprises, the men
took great pains with their accoutrement.

"Can I help ye, Sandy?" I cried down through the hole.

"Bide ye whaur ye are, man. I can manage the hullions fine! Wad ye,
then? Stan' up there back to back, or I'll gie ye anither daud on the
kerb that may leave some o' your harns[8] stickin' to it. Noo, I'll put
the rape roon ye, an' ease ye doon to a braw and caller spot!"

[Footnote 8: Brains.]

I looked down the trap and saw Sandy roving the spare coil of well-rope
round and round his two prisoners. He had their hands close to their
sides, and whenever one of them opened his mouth, Sandy gave his head a
knock with his open hand that drave him silent again, clapping his teeth
together like castanets from Spain.

As soon as he had this completed to his satisfaction, he lifted the
bucket from the hook, and began to lower the men down the shaft,
slinging them to the rope by the belly-bands of His Majesty's regimental
breeches.

The men cried out to ask if he meant to drown them.

"Na, na, droon nane," said Sandy. "There's but three feet o' water in
the well. Ye'll be fine and caller doon there a' nicht, but gin ye as
muckle as gie a cry afore the morrow's sunrise--weel, ye hae heard o'
Sandy Gordon o' the Earlstoun!"

And this, indeed, feared the men greatly, for he was cele