nly sprang up, clapped
his hand to his side, and whirled out his claymore from its sheath.

"Fecht, laddies, fecht!" he yelled, as he waved the flashing blade above
his head. "Doon wi' t' enemies o' ta Mackhai!"

Uttering these last words as if they were a war-cry, he dashed at the
bailiff, who stared wildly at the weird-looking old Highlander for a
moment, and then, with his men, he turned and fled, the whole party
retreating as hard as they could go.

"Hurray!" shouted Kenneth, and a burst of cheers followed, all shouting
frantically as they saw old Tonal' in full pursuit.

Full pursuit?

He only went about half a dozen yards; then he limped, then he stopped
short, and then he turned slowly, making his sword a walking-stick, as
the gates were thrown open, and the dogs dashed out, barking savagely,
and took up the pursuit, adding wings to the flight of the bailiffs men.
These ran the harder as they saw the light cavalry let loose, in the
shape of Bruce, followed at a distance by the heavies, as represented by
Dirk, who could not go so fast, and with the infantry in support in the
ragged person of Sneeshing, who hindered his advance by keeping on
firing shots.

The rest of the garrison poured forth, led by Kenneth, closely followed
by Max and Scood, the former running up to old Donald, who came limping
on.

"Are you much hurt, old man?" cried Kenneth, taking one arm.

"Ta togs! I'd ha' slit the weam o' ivery ane!" panted the piper.

"But are you much hurt? Anything broken?"

"Proken, dear laddie, son o' my sin auld Chief--proken all to pits.
Didna ye hear ta clash?"

"Let's carry him in," cried Max.

"Na, na, my bonnie Southron chiel'," said the old man, smiling at Max.
"Na, na, she can walk; put, Maister Crant, she could tak' chust a tram
o' Talisker or Clen Nevis, for she's a pit shakken wi' coming town sae
quick."

The lads helped the old man toward the gateway while Grant ran off
eagerly enough for the whisky.

"Scoody, fetch a chair," cried Max.

"Lat her carry the auld man in," said Tavish.

"Na, na, let her pe. I want to see 'em--I want to see 'em," cried the
old man, waving them off impatiently; and he limped to where his
instrument, with the green baize bag and pennoned ivory-tipped pipes,
lay on the ground.

"Oh tear! wae's me!" he moaned, as he stooped down and picked up the
instrument. "Put ta enemies o' ta Mackhai listened to ta pibroch, and
she turned and fled; put," he added, l