CHAPTER V.

ROYALS TO THE RESCUE--THAT FAITHFUL DWARF--HAND TO HAND WITH DIRK AND CLAYMORE--"THE RED-COATS ARE COMING!"

A glimmer of coming daylight was spreading high up in the east, and one by one the stars were paling before it, as that warlike band galloped away from the camp: thirty-three in all were they. Good men and true.

"The largest and strongest horse carried Ian, and behind him sat Fiona herself, for she was the guide.

"And now, dear boy, we must go back a few hours in this true story, to see what happened to sturdy Robertson and his faithful men.

"It was nearly twelve o'clock, and the honest farmer was beginning to think that after all no attack would be made on his little stronghold, when suddenly Muirachie grasped his master's arm.

"'Hist!' he said in Gaelic, 'they are coming, I can hear their footsteps.'

"At the same moment the faithful dwarf's collie, Kooran, sprang up with a growl, and would have given voice had not Muirachie seized her by the muzzle.

"Next moment, the tramp of armed men could be heard by all.

"'This side, this side,' whispered Robertson. 'Each man to a loop-hole, but do not fire till I give the order.'

"Raoul Dhu was the first to advance towards the farm.

"'Hullo! fortified, are you?' he muttered, and drew back

"Robertson could have shot him where he stood, but generously permitted him to retreat.

"'Come forth, you traitor to your lawful King and country,' cried Raoul now. 'Come forth, I say, and I'll fight you with dirk or claymore.'

"There was no response from the darkened fort.

"'Shut up your women folks. We don't want to kill females and children, and we're going to fire. But, Robertson, we'll hang you and all the traitor hounds you have beside you, and Fiona shall be mine.'

"Then came a lull for the space of five minutes at least.

"It was the stillness that precedes a storm. A long line of smoke and fire followed it, but the bullets hardly pierced the palisade. It was briskly replied to from the forts, and more than one man was seen to fall.

"Raoul and his men sought shelter now, and for the next half hour an intermittent fire was kept up from the bush.

"It was not even replied to, for, determined not to waste his ammunition, Robertson had caused his little force to lie down, and the bullets pattered harmlessly on the walls behind them.

"In their cave, half down the wooded ravine, Mrs. Robertson heard the firing, and even the loud, threatening voices of the assailants, but, woman-like, she could but weep. O, yes, she prayed also, as perhaps she had never prayed before, and even caused her little ones to kneel down and add their voices to hers in supplication.

"It seemed, for two long hours, or probably nearer three, that those prayers had been heard, and that the attack on the farm was relinquished.

"Then, in the distance, those in the fort heard a murmur of many voices coming nearer and nearer up the brae.

"They carried torches, too, which they wildly waved aloft. By this light Robertson noted that Raoul's attacking force was now full fifty strong.

"The defenders did not wait for the onslaught this time, but poured a withering fire into the advancing ranks. Volley after volley; but though many were seen to reel and fall, the rest kept rushing on, the commander shouting:

"'Ready, lads, with the axes; and failing that, we'll rout them out with fire and smoke.'

"Soon the hatchets were thundering on the palisade, and those who wielded them were comparatively safe from the port-hole fire.

"Something must be done, and that at once.

"'Follow me!' cried Robertson.

"The rebels, in the glare of the torchlight, could see nothing of the raid that your ancestor and his men now made from a door to the east, and the very closeness of their ranks made Robertson's fire most deadly. Two volleys were poured in at short range. So short, indeed, that one bullet probably killed or wounded two men.

"'Now for the claymores!' shouted Robertson.

"The attack followed close on the shout, and men fell before it as if mowed down by the reaper's scythe.

"They fled now to the adjoining copse, and the defenders poured a volley after them into the wood.

"But that copse was not to protect them, for somehow a fallen torch set a light to the undergrowth, and the fire was speedily raging and licking up everything before it.

"The attacking party was obliged to fly, but, lit up by the glare, many became an easy prey to the defenders, who were once more behind the palisade.

"But startling now was the voice that Robertson heard at his elbow.

"'O, mister, mister'--it was the dwarf who spoke-- 'ta leddies, ta leddies and children!'

"'What! You think the fire will reach them?'

"'To pe surely, mister. They will pe smother in ta cave whatefer. But Muirachie will save them.'

"He waited no word of command. He simply disappeared.

"But what had now become of the besiegers? Will Raoul was not the man to be easily discouraged, though his men were worn out, and none would return. He had, therefore, to lead them back to Beauly, and there revelling and drinking were resumed. Such was the custom of the period. Then sleep followed.

"Day had broken and morning well advanced before Raoul Dhu resumed his attack. It was still more determined than that which had gone before it, and to the horror of the defenders it was seen that the rebels had armed themselves with a battering-ram. Moreover, they had crept up the side of the ravine, and had their instrument planted almost before Robertson could fire a shot.

"Nothing, it seemed, was able to save them now. Their destruction was but a matter of time.

"Crash! crash! crash! went the ram, and the palisade flew into flinders before that iron-shod beam.

"One volley more was fired, then the Robertsons retreated to their last trench.

"They would die fighting, at all events.

"And the end speedily came, dear boy."

"What, Auld-da," I cried, excitedly, "did Raoul Dhu slay the poor men?"

"The end came, dear boy, thus," said Auld-da, in his quiet way: "Raoul Dhu, who seemed to possess a charmed life--for his mother, they said, had been witched at the time of his birth--dashed though the breach followed by his men. He seemed surprised to find an inner trench that had still to be stormed. But with a wild shout the rebels leapt at it.

"It would be hand to hand now with dirk and claymore, and, overpowering them by numbers, the enemy would make short work of the defenders. Even at this awful moment Robertson had time to think of those he was about to leave behind him.

"'God help my wife and bairns!' he cried, as he drew his dirk.

"There was no more shouting, for, when hand to hand, laddie, men do not shout. There were sounds, however, in that trench and above it, that would have made your blood run cold. The clash of steel, the dull thuds of dirks driven home, short cries and groans, gaspings and oaths. Oh! war is a terrible thing, my boy.

"But hark! Just at this moment, when all seemed lost, high above the din of the hand-to-hand conflict rose a soldiers' cheer.

"'The red-coats are coming!' shouted Raoul Dhu. 'Back, men, to the opening! Quick!'

"The red-coats were coming. Ay, and they had come, and next minute were pouring in through the opening in the palisade.

"But let us drop the curtain, laddie, over the scene. It is too dreadful to describe.

"Suffice it to say that no quarter was given. Every rebel inside that palisade was slain.

"Ian, Fiona's lover, and Raoul Dhu seemed to single each other out, and fought for many minutes with all the beauty and coolness of skilled swordsmen; but Ian's sword found flesh at last, and Raoul Dhu fell to the ground, pierced through the chest.

"With one foot on his foe, and right arm drawn back, Ian was about to give the _coup de grace_ which Raoul, too proud to sue for mercy, calmly awaited, when Fiona herself rushed upon the scene, and threw herself on her lover's breast.

"'No, no, no!' she cried. 'For my sake, kill him not! To slay a fallen foe were murder. Spare him.'

"'I will,' said Ian, and he sheathed his sword."

"But, Auld-da," I persisted, "the sword was all dripping with blood and gore, wasn't it?"

"Haven't you had enough of that, laddie?" said Auld-da, smiling. "I'll tell you no more, because my story is ended. You see, my boy, God had heard the children's prayers."

"But what became of--of--of everybody, Auld-da?"

"That is soon told. Raoul Dhu was taken prisoner, and, I believe, afterwards suffered the extreme penalty of the law at Edinburgh.

"When peace was once again restored, Ian was married to Fiona in the little church adown the glen, for the soldier was now on leave.

"The children grew up; my father was one of them, my Uncle Peter another.

"The farm, however, was burned, and, sad to say, poor Muirachie lost his life in attempting to save the cattle.

"Then the Robertsons went higher up, and nearer to the forest.

"It was there that I was born, boy. But I shall tell you no more to-night. Old men like me tire soon."

And so I left him dozing over the fire.