ickson felt
his heart and pulse and found them faint but regular. The man had got a
swinging blow and might have a slight concussion; for the present he
was unconscious.

"All the more reason why we should flit," said Dougal. "What d'ye say,
Mr. McCunn?"

"Flit, of course, but further than the old Tower. What's the time?" He
lifted Heritage's wrist and saw from his watch that it was half-past
three. "Mercy. It's nearly morning. Afore we put these blagyirds
away, they were conversing, at least Leon and Dobson were. They said
that they expected somebody every moment, but that the car would be
late. We've still got that Somebody to tackle. Then Leon spoke to me
in the dark, thinking I was Dobson, and cursed the wind, saying it
would keep the Danish brig from getting in at dawn as had been
intended. D'you see what that means? The worst of the lot, the ones
the ladies are in terror of, are coming by sea. Ay, and they can
return by sea. We thought that the attack would be by land, and that
even if they succeeded we could hang on to their heels and follow them,
till we got them stopped. But that's impossible! If they come in from
the water, they can go out by the water, and there'll never be more
heard tell of the ladies or of you or me."

Dougal's face was once again sunk in gloom. "What's your plan, then?"

"We must get the ladies away from here--away inland, far from the sea.
The rest of us must stand a siege in the old Tower, so that the enemy
will think we're all there. Please God we'll hold out long enough for
help to arrive. But we mustn't hang about here. There's the man
Dobson mentioned--he may come any second, and we want to be away first.
Get the ladder, Dougal.... Four of you take Mr. Heritage, and two come
with me and carry the ladies' things. It's no' raining, but the wind's
enough to take the wings off a seagull."

Dickson roused Saskia and her cousin, bidding them be ready in ten
minutes. Then with the help of the Die-Hards he proceeded to transport
the necessary supplies--the stove, oil, dishes, clothes and wraps; more
than one journey was needed of small boys, hidden under clouds of
baggage. When everything had gone he collected the keys, behind which,
in various quarters of the house, three gaolers fumed impotently, and
gave them to Wee Jaikie to dispose of in some secret nook. Then he led
the two ladies to the verandah, the elder cross and sleepy, the younger
alert at the prospect of