those gentry with
you that we intend to make ourselves cosy in other parts of the house
till the morn's morning, and that if they attempt to force a way out by
door or window before we let them, we'll have sentinels to blow out
the little brains they have. I'm putting it to you in the English,
Dalness--and I cry pardon for making my first gossip with a Highland
gentleman in such a tongue--but I want you to put my message in as
plausible a way as suits you best to the lads and _bodachs_ with you."

The man drew away from the neighbourhood of the door; there was a long
silence, and we concluded they were holding parley of war as to what was
next to be done. Meantime we made preparations to be moving from a
place that was neither safe nor homely. We took food from the pantries,
scourged Stewart from a press he was prying in with clawing fingers
and bulging pockets, and had just got together again at the rear of the
house when a cry at the front told us that our enemies, in some way we
never learned the manner of, had got the better of our bolted doors and
shutters.

Perhaps a chance of planning our next step would have been in our
favour; perhaps on the other hand it would have been the worse for us,
because in human folly we might have determined on staying to face
the odds against us, but there was no time for balancing the chances;
whatever was to be done was to be done quickly.

"Royal's my race!" cried Stewart, dropping a pillowslip full of goods he
carried with him--"Royal's my race--and here's one with great respect
for keeping up the name of it" And he leaped to a thicket on his left.
The man with the want ran weeping up to the Dark Dame and clung to
her torn gown, a very child in the stupor of his grief and fear. The
baron-bailie and Sonachan and the minister stood spellbound, and I
cursed our folly at the weakness of our trap. Only M'Iver kept his wits
about him.

"Scatter," said he in English--"scatter without adieus, and all to the
fore by morning search back to the Brig of Urchy, comrades there till
the middle of the day, then the devil take the hindmost."

More than a dozen MacDonalds came running round the gable end, lit
by the upper windows, and we dispersed like chaff to the wind before
M'Iver's speech concluded. He and I ran for a time together, among the
bushes of the garden, through the curly kail, under low young firs that
clutched at the clothing. Behind us the night rang with pursuing cries,
w