fficers had often to
shift for themselves, and consequently next day he was able to produce
a dinner so far in advance of that to which the band was accustomed that
their approbation was warmly and loudly expressed.

The stew was juicy and tender, the roast done to a turn, and the
bread, baked on an iron plate, was pronounced to be excellent. The band
declared that their new cook was a treasure. Malcolm had already found
that though he could move about the castle as he chose, one of the band
was now always stationed at the gate with pike and pistols, while at
night the door between the room in which he cooked and the hall was
closed, and two or three heavy logs thrown against it.

Under the pretence of getting wood Malcolm soon explored the castle. The
upper rooms were all roofless and open to the air. There were no windows
on the side upon which the path ascended, and by which alone an attack
upon the castle was possible. Here the walls were pierced only by narrow
loopholes for arrows or musketry. On the other sides the windows were
large, for here the steepness of the rock protected the castle from
attack.

The kitchen in which he cooked and slept had no other entrance save that
into the hall, the doorway into the courtyard being closed by a heap of
fallen stones from above. Two or three narrow slits in the wall allowed
light and air to enter. Malcolm saw that escape at night, after he had
once been shut in, was impossible, and that in the daytime he could not
pass out by the gate; for even if by a sudden surprise he overpowered
the sentry there, he would be met at the bottom of the path by the
two men who were always stationed as guards to the horses, and to give
notice of the approach of strangers.

The only chance of escape, therefore, was by lowering himself from one
of the windows behind, down the steep rock. To do this a rope of some
seventy feet long was necessary, and after a careful search through the
ruins he failed to discover even the shortest piece of rope.

That afternoon some of the band on their return from foraging drove in
half a dozen cattle, and one of these was with much difficulty compelled
to climb up the path to the castle, and was slaughtered in the yard.

"There, Scot, are victuals for the next week; cut it up, and throw the
head and offal down the rock behind."

As Malcolm commenced his unpleasant task a thought suddenly struck him,
and he laboured away cheerfully and hopefully. After