<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></SPAN>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
<p class="center">THE SECOND BATTLE OF THE CRUIVES</p>
<p>The military historian must often make shift to
write of battles with slender data, but he can
pad out his deficiencies by learned parallels. If his
were the talented pen describing this, the latest
action fought on British soil against a foreign foe,
he would no doubt be crippled by the absence of
written orders and war diaries. But how eloquently
he would discant on the resemblance between
Dougal and Gouraud—how the plan of leaving the
enemy to waste his strength upon a deserted position
was that which on the 15th of July, 1918, the
French general had used with decisive effect in
Champagne! But Dougal had never heard of
Gouraud, and I cannot claim that, like the Happy
Warrior, he</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i4">"through the heat of conflict kept the law<br/></span>
<span class="i0">In calmness made, and saw what he foresaw."<br/></span></div>
</div>
<p>I have had the benefit of discussing the affair with
him and his colleagues, but I should offend against
historic truth if I represented the main action as
anything but a scrimmage—a "soldiers' battle," the
historian would say, a Malplaquet, an Albuera.</p>
<p>Just after half-past three that afternoon the
Commander-in-Chief was revealed in a very bad<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_258" id="Page_258"></SPAN></span>
temper. He had intercepted Sir Archie's car, and,
since L�on was known to be fully occupied, had
brought it in by the West Lodge, and hidden it behind
a clump of laurels. There he had held a
hoarse council of war. He had cast an appraising
eye over Sime the butler, Carfrae the chauffeur, and
McGuffog the gamekeeper, and his brows had lightened
when he beheld Sir Archie with an armful of
guns and two big cartridge-magazines. But they
had darkened again at the first words of the leader
of the reinforcements.</p>
<p>"Now for the Tower," Sir Archie had observed
cheerfully. "We should be a match for the three
watchers, my lad, and it's time that poor devil
What's-his-name was relieved."</p>
<p>"A bonny-like plan that would be," said Dougal.
"Man, ye would be walkin' into the very trap they
want. In an hour, or maybe two, the rest will turn
up from the sea and they'd have ye tight by the
neck. Na, na! It's time we're wantin', and the
longer they think we're a' in the auld Tower the
better for us. What news o' the polis?"</p>
<p>He listened to Sir Archie's report with a gloomy
face.</p>
<p>"Not afore the darkenin'? They'll be ower late—the
polis are aye ower late. It looks as if we had
the job to do oursels. What's <i>your</i> notion?"</p>
<p>"God knows," said the baronet whose eyes were
on Saskia. "What's yours?"</p>
<p>The deference conciliated Dougal. "There's just
the one plan that's worth a docken. There's five o'
us here, and there's plenty weapons. Besides<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></SPAN></span>
there's five Die-Hards somewhere about, and
though they've never tried it afore they can be
trusted to loose off a gun. My advice is to hide
at the Garplefoot and stop the boats landin'. We'd
have the tinklers on our flank, no doubt, but I'm
not muckle feared o' them. It wouldn't be easy for
the boats to get in wi' this tearin' wind and us firin'
volleys from the shore."</p>
<p>Sir Archie stared at him with admiration.
"You're a hearty young fire-eater. But Great
Scott! we can't go pottin' at strangers before we
find out their business. This is a law-abidin' country,
and we're not entitled to start shootin' except
in self-defence. You can wash that plan out, for
it ain't feasible."</p>
<p>Dougal spat cynically. "For all that it's the right
strawtegy. Man, we might sink the lot, and then
turn and settle wi' Dobson, and all afore the first
polisman showed his neb. It would be a grand performance.
But I was feared ye wouldn't be for it....
Well, there's just the one other thing to do.
We must get inside the Hoose and put it in a state
of defence. Heritage has McCunn's pistol, and
he'll keep them busy for a bit. When they've
finished wi' him and find the place is empty, they'll
try the Hoose and we'll give them a warm reception.
That should keep us goin' till the polis arrive,
unless they're comin' wi' the blind carrier."</p>
<p>Sir Archie nodded. "But why put ourselves in
their power at all? They're at present barking up
the wrong tree. Let them bark up another wrong
'un. Why shouldn't the House remain empty? I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></SPAN></span>
take it we're here to protect the Princess. Well,
we'll have done that if they go off empty-handed."</p>
<p>Dougal looked up to the heavens. "I wish McCunn
was here," he sighed. "Ay, we've got to
protect the Princess, and there's just the one way
to do it, and that's to put an end to this crowd o'
blagyirds. If they gang empty-handed, they'll
come again another day, either here or somewhere
else, and it won't be long afore they get the lassie.
But if we finish with them now she can sit down
wi' an easy mind. That's why we've got to hang
on to them till the polis comes. There's no way
out o' this business but a battle."</p>
<p>He found an ally. "Dougal is right," said
Saskia. "If I am to have peace, by some way or
other the fangs of my enemies must be drawn for
ever."</p>
<p>He swung round and addressed her formally.
"Mem, I'm askin' ye for the last time. Will ye
keep out of this business? Will ye gang back and
sit doun aside Mrs. Morran's fire and have your
tea and wait till we come for ye? Ye can do no
good, and ye're puttin' yourself terrible in the
enemy's power. If we're beat and ye're no' there,
they get very little satisfaction, but if they get <i>you</i>
they get what they've come seekin'. I tell ye
straight—ye're an encumbrance."</p>
<p>She laughed mischievously. "I can shoot better
than you," she said.</p>
<p>He ignored the taunt. "Will ye listen to sense
and fall to the rear?"</p>
<p>"I will not," she said.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_261" id="Page_261"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Then gang your own gait. I'm ower wise to
argy-bargy wi' women. The Hoose be it!"</p>
<p>It was a journey which sorely tried Dougal's
temper. The only way in was by the verandah, but
the door at the west end had been locked, and the
ladder had disappeared. Now of his party three
were lame, one lacked an arm, and one was a girl;
besides, there were the guns and cartridges to transport.
Moreover, at more than one point before the
verandah was reached the route was commanded
by a point on the ridge near the old Tower, and
that had been Spidel's position when Dougal made
his last reconnaissance. It behoved to pass these
points swiftly and unobtrusively, and his company
was neither swift nor unobtrusive. McGuffog had
a genius for tripping over obstacles, and Sir Archie
was for ever proffering his aid to Saskia, who was
in a position to give rather than to receive, being
far the most active of the party. Once Dougal had
to take the gamekeeper's head and force it down,
a performance which would have led to an immediate
assault but for Sir Archie's presence. Nor did
the latter escape. "Will ye stop heedin' the lassie,
and attend to your own job," the Chieftain growled.
"Ye're makin' as much noise as a road-roller."</p>
<p>Arrived at the foot of the verandah wall there
remained the problem of the escalade. Dougal
clambered up like a squirrel by the help of cracks
in the stones, and he could be heard trying the
handle of the door into the House. He was absent
for about five minutes and then his head peeped
over the edge accompanied by the hooks of an iron<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></SPAN></span>
ladder. "From the boiler-house," he informed
them as they stood clear for the thing to drop. It
proved to be little more than half the height of
the wall.</p>
<p>Saskia ascended first, and had no difficulty in
pulling herself over the parapet. Then came the
guns and ammunition, and then the one-armed
Sime, who turned out to be an athlete. But it was
no easy matter getting up the last three. Sir
Archie anathematised his frailties. "Nice old crock
to go tiger-shootin' with," he told the Princess.
"But set me to something where my confounded leg
don't get in the way, and I'm still pretty useful!"
Dougal, mopping his brow with the rag he called
his handkerchief, observed sourly that he objected
to going scouting with a herd of elephants.</p>
<p>Once indoors his spirits rose. The party from
the Mains had brought several electric torches and
the one lamp was presently found and lit. "We
can't count on the polis," Dougal announced, "and
when the foreigners is finished wi' the Tower they'll
come on here. If no', we must make them. What
is it the sodgers call it? Forcin' a battle? Now
see here! There's the two roads into this place,
the back door and the verandy, leavin' out the front
door which is chained and lockit. They'll try those
two roads first and we must get them well barricaded
in time. But mind, if there's a good few o'
them, it'll be an easy job to batter in the front door
or the windies, so we maun be ready for that."</p>
<p>He told off a fatigue party—the Princess, Sir
Archie and McGuffog—to help in moving furniture<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_263" id="Page_263"></SPAN></span>
to the several doors. Sime and Carfrae attended
to the kitchen entrance, while he himself made a
tour of the ground-floor windows. For half an
hour the empty house was loud with strange sounds.
McGuffog, who was a giant in strength, filled the
passage at the verandah end with an assortment of
furniture ranging from a grand piano to a vast
mahogany sofa, while Saskia and Sir Archie pillaged
the bedrooms and packed up the interstices with
mattresses in lieu of sandbags. Dougal on his return
saw fit to approve their work.</p>
<p>"That'll fickle the blagyirds. Down at the
kitchen door we've got a mangle, five wash-tubs and
the best part of a ton o' coal. It's the windies I'm
anxious about, for they're ower big to fill up. But
I've gotten tubs o' water below them and a lot o'
wire-nettin' I fund in the cellar."</p>
<p>Sir Archie morosely wiped his brow. "I can't
say I ever hated a job more," he told Saskia. "It
seems pretty cool to march into somebody else's
house and make free with his furniture. I hope to
goodness our friends from the sea do turn up, or
we'll look pretty foolish. Loudon will have a score
against me he won't forget."</p>
<p>"Ye're no' weakenin'?" asked Dougal fiercely.</p>
<p>"Not a bit. Only hopin' somebody hasn't made
a mighty big mistake."</p>
<p>"Ye needn't be feared for that. Now you listen
to your instructions. We're terrible few for such
a big place, but we maun make up for shortness o'
numbers by extra mobility. The gemkeeper will
keep the windy that looks on the verandy, and fell<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_264" id="Page_264"></SPAN></span>
any man that gets through. You'll hold the verandy
door, and the ither lame man—is't Carfrae ye call
him?—will keep the back door. I've telled the
one-armed man, who has some kind of a head on
him, that he maun keep on the move, watchin' to
see if they try the front door or any o' the other
windies. If they do, he takes his station there.
D'ye follow?"</p>
<p>Sir Archie nodded gloomily. "What is my
post?" Saskia asked.</p>
<p>"I've appointed ye my Chief of Staff," was the
answer. "Ye see we've no reserves. If this door's
the dangerous bit, it maun be reinforced from elsewhere;
and that'll want savage thinkin'. Ye'll have
to be ay on the move, Mem, and keep me informed.
If they break in at two bits, we're beat,
and there'll be nothin' for it but to retire to our
last position. Ye ken the room ayont the hall
where they keep the coats. That's our last trench,
and at the worst we fall back there and stick it out.
It has a strong door and a wee windy, so they'll
no' be able to get in on our rear. We should be
able to put up a good defence there, unless they fire
the place over our heads.... Now, we'd better
give out the guns."</p>
<p>"We don't want any shootin' if we can avoid it,"
said Sir Archie, who found his distaste for Dougal
growing, though he was under the spell of the one
being there who knew precisely his own mind.</p>
<p>"Just what I was goin' to say. My instructions
is, reserve your fire, and don't loose off till you have
a man up against the end o' your barrel."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Good Lord, we'll get into a horrible row. The
whole thing may be a mistake, and we'll be had up
for wholesale homicide. No man shall fire unless
I give the word."</p>
<p>The Commander-in-Chief looked at him darkly.
Some bitter retort was on his tongue, but he restrained
himself.</p>
<p>"It appears," he said, "that ye think I'm doin'
all this for fun. I'll no 'argy wi' ye. There can be
just the one general in a battle, but I'll give ye
permission to say the word when to fire.... Macgreegor!"
he muttered, a strange expletive only
used in moments of deep emotion. "I'll wager
ye'll be for sayin' the word afore I'd say it
mysel'."</p>
<p>He turned to the Princess. "I hand over to you,
till I am back, for I maun be off and see to the Die-Hards.
I wish I could bring them in here, but I
daren't lose my communications. I'll likely get in
by the boiler-house skylight when I come back, but
it might be as well to keep a road open here unless
ye're actually attacked."</p>
<p>Dougal clambered over the mattresses and the
grand piano; a flicker of waning daylight appeared
for a second as he squeezed through the door, and
Sir Archie was left staring at the wrathful countenance
of McGuffog. He laughed ruefully.</p>
<p>"I've been in about forty battles, and here's that
little devil rather worried about my pluck, and
talkin' to me like a corps commander to a newly
joined second-lieutenant. All the same he's a remarkable
child, and we'd better behave as if we<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></SPAN></span>
were in for a real shindy. What do you think,
Princess?"</p>
<p>"I think we are in for what you call a shindy.
I am in command, remember. I order you to serve
out the guns."</p>
<p>This was done, a shot-gun and a hundred cartridges
to each, while McGuffog, who was a marksman,
was also given a sporting Mannlicher, and two
other rifles, a .303 and a small-bore Holland, were
kept in reserve in the hall. Sir Archie, free from
Dougal's compelling presence, gave the gamekeeper
peremptory orders not to shoot till he was bidden,
and Carfrae at the kitchen door was warned to the
same effect. The shuttered house, where the only
light apart from the garden-room was the feeble
spark of the electric torches, had the most disastrous
effect upon his spirits. The gale which
roared in the chimney and eddied among the rafters
of the hall seemed an infernal commotion in a tomb.</p>
<p>"Let's go upstairs," he told Saskia; "there must
be a view from the upper windows."</p>
<p>"You can see the top of the old Tower, and part
of the sea," she said. "I know it well, for it was
my only amusement to look at it. On clear days,
too, one could see high mountains far in the west."
His depression seemed to have affected her, for she
spoke listlessly, unlike the vivid creature who had
led the way in.</p>
<p>In a gaunt west-looking bedroom, the one in
which Heritage and Dickson had camped the night
before, they opened a fold of the shutters and
looked out into a world of grey wrack and driving<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></SPAN></span>
rain. The Tower roof showed mistily beyond the
ridge of down, but its environs were not in their
prospect. The lower regions of the House had been
gloomy enough, but this bleak place with its drab
outlook struck a chill to Sir Archie's soul. He dolefully
lit a cigarette.</p>
<p>"This is a pretty rotten show for you," he told
her. "It strikes me as a rather unpleasant brand
of nightmare."</p>
<p>"I have been living with nightmares for three
years," she said wearily.</p>
<p>He cast his eyes round the room. "I think the
Kennedys were mad to build this confounded barrack.
I've always disliked it, and old Quentin
hadn't any use for it either. Cold, cheerless, raw
monstrosity! It hasn't been a very giddy place for
you, Princess."</p>
<p>"It has been my prison, when I hoped it would
be a sanctuary. But it may yet be my salvation."</p>
<p>"I'm sure I hope so. I say, you must be jolly
hungry. I don't suppose there's any chance of tea
for you."</p>
<p>She shook her head. She was looking fixedly at
the Tower, as if she expected something to appear
there, and he followed her eyes.</p>
<p>"Rum old shell, that. Quentin used to keep all
kinds of live stock there, and when we were boys
it was our castle where we played at bein' robber
chiefs. It'll be dashed queer if the real thing should
turn up this time. I suppose McCunn's Poet is
roostin' there all by his lone. Can't say I envy him
his job."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_268" id="Page_268"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>Suddenly she caught his arm. "I see a man," she
whispered. "There! He is behind those far
bushes. There is his head again!"</p>
<p>It was clearly a man, but he presently disappeared,
for he had come round by the south end
of the House, past the stables, and had now gone
over the ridge.</p>
<p>"The cut of his jib is uncommonly like Loudon,
the factor. I thought McCunn had stretched him
on a bed of pain. Lord, if this thing should turn
out a farce, I simply can't face Loudon.... I say,
Princess, you don't suppose by any chance that McCunn's
a little bit wrong in the head?"</p>
<p>She turned her candid eyes on him. "You are in
a very doubting mood."</p>
<p>"My feet are cold and I don't mind admittin' it.
Hanged if I know what it is, but I don't feel this
show a bit real. If it isn't, we're in a fair way to
make howlin' idiots of ourselves, and get pretty well
embroiled with the law. It's all right for the red-haired
boy, for he can take everything seriously,
even play. I could do the same thing myself when
I was a kid. I don't mind runnin' some kinds of
risk—I've had a few in my time—but this is so infernally
outlandish and I—I don't quite believe in
it. That is to say, I believe in it right enough when
I look at you or listen to McCunn, but as soon as
my eyes are off you I begin to doubt again. I'm
gettin' old and I've a stake in the country, and I
daresay I'm gettin' a bit of a prig—anyway I don't
want to make a jackass of myself. Besides, there's<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></SPAN></span>
this foul weather and this beastly house to ice my
feet."</p>
<p>He broke off with an exclamation, for on the grey
cloud-bounded stage in which the roof of the Tower
was the central feature, actors had appeared. Dim
hurrying shapes showed through the mist, dipping
over the ridge, as if coming from the Garplefoot.</p>
<p>She seized his arm and he saw that her listlessness
was gone. Her eyes were shining.</p>
<p>"It is they," she cried. "The nightmare is real
at last. Do you doubt now?"</p>
<p>He could only stare, for these shapes arriving and
vanishing like wisps of fog still seemed to him
phantasmal. The girl held his arm tightly clutched,
and craned towards the window space. He tried to
open the frame, and succeeded in smashing the glass.
A swirl of wind drove inwards and blew a loose
lock of Saskia's hair across his brow.</p>
<p>"I wish Dougal were back," he muttered, and
then came the crack of a shot.</p>
<p>The pressure on his arm slackened, and a pale
face was turned to him. "He is alone—Mr. Heritage.
He has no chance. They will kill him like
a dog."</p>
<p>"They'll never get in," he assured her. "Dougal
said the place could hold out for hours."</p>
<p>Another shot followed and presently a third.
She twined her hands and her eyes were wild.</p>
<p>"We can't leave him to be killed," she gasped.</p>
<p>"It's the only game. We're playin' for time, remember.
Besides he won't be killed. Great Scott!"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>As he spoke, a sudden explosion cleft the drone
of the wind and a patch of gloom flashed into yellow
light.</p>
<p>"Bomb!" he cried. "Lord, I might have thought
of that."</p>
<p>The girl had sprung back from the window. "I
cannot bear it. I will not see him murdered in sight
of his friends. I am going to show myself, and
when they see me they will leave him.... No,
you must stay here. Presently they will be round
this house. Don't be afraid for me—I am very
quick of foot."</p>
<p>"For God's sake, don't! Here, Princess, stop,"
and he clutched at her skirt. "Look here, I'll go."</p>
<p>"You can't. You have been wounded. I am in
command, you know. Keep the door open till I
come back."</p>
<p>He hobbled after her, but she easily eluded him.
She was smiling now, and blew a kiss to him. "La,
la, la," she trilled, as she ran down the stairs. He
heard her voice below, admonishing McGuffog.
Then he pulled himself together and went back to
the window. He had brought the little Holland
with him, and he poked its barrel through the hole
in the glass.</p>
<p>"Curse my game leg," he said, almost cheerfully,
for the situation was now becoming one with which
he could cope. "I ought to be able to hold up the
pursuit a bit. My aunt! What a girl!"</p>
<p>With the rifle cuddled to his shoulder he watched
a slim figure come into sight on the lawn, running
towards the ridge. He reflected that she must have<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></SPAN></span>
dropped from the high verandah wall. That reminded
him that something must be done to make
the wall climbable for her return, so he went down
to McGuffog, and the two squeezed through the
barricaded door to the verandah. The boiler-house
ladder was still in position, but it did not reach half
the height, so McGuffog was adjured to stand by
to help, and in the meantime to wait on duty by the
wall. Then he hurried upstairs to his watch-tower.</p>
<p>The girl was in sight, almost on the crest of the
high ground. There she stood for a moment, one
hand clutching at her errant hair, the other shielding
her eyes from the sting of the rain. He heard
her cry, as Heritage had heard her, but since the
wind was blowing towards him the sound came
louder and fuller. Again she cried, and then stood
motionless with her hands above her head. It was
only for an instant, for the next he saw she had
turned and was racing down the slope, jumping the
little scrogs of hazel like a deer. On the ridge
appeared faces, and then over it swept a mob of
men.</p>
<p>She had a start of some fifty yards, and laboured
to increase it, having doubtless the verandah wall
in mind. Sir Archie, sick with anxiety, nevertheless
spared time to admire her prowess. "Gad! she's a
miler," he ejaculated. "She'll do it. I'm hanged
if she don't do it."</p>
<p>Against men in seaman's boots and heavy clothing
she had a clear advantage. But two shook
themselves loose from the pack and began to gain
on her. At the main shrubbery they were not thirty<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></SPAN></span>
yards behind, and in her passage through it her
skirts must have delayed her, for when she emerged
the pursuit had halved the distance. He got the
sights of the rifle on the first man, but the lawns
sloped up towards the house, and to his consternation
he found that the girl was in the line of fire.
Madly he ran to the other window of the room,
tore back the shutters, shivered the glass, and flung
his rifle to his shoulder. The fellow was within
three yards of her, but thank God! he had now a
clear field. He fired low and just ahead of him, and
had the satisfaction to see him drop like a rabbit,
shot in the leg. His companion stumbled over him,
and for a moment the girl was safe.</p>
<p>But her speed was failing. She passed out of
sight on the verandah side of the house, and the
rest of the pack had gained ominously over the
easier ground of the lawn. He thought for a moment
of trying to stop them by his fire, but realised
that if every shot told there would still be enough
of them left to make sure of her capture. The only
chance was at the verandah, and he went downstairs
at a pace undreamed of since the days when he had
two whole legs.</p>
<p>McGuffog, Mannlicher in hand, was poking his
neck over the wall. The pursuit had turned the
corner and were about twenty yards off; the girl was
at the foot of the ladder, breathless, drooping with
fatigue. She tried to climb, limply and feebly, and
very slowly, as if she were too giddy to see clear.
Above were two cripples, and at her back the van
of the now triumphant pack.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>Sir Archie, game leg or no, was on the parapet
preparing to drop down and hold off the pursuit
were it only for seconds. But at that moment he
was aware that the situation had changed.</p>
<p>At the foot of the ladder a tall man seemed to
have sprung out of the ground. He caught the girl
in his arms, climbed the ladder, and McGuffog's
great hands reached down and seized her and
swung her into safety. Up the wall, by means of
cracks and tufts, was shinning a small boy.</p>
<p>The stranger coolly faced the pursuers and at the
sight of him they checked, those behind stumbling
against those in front. He was speaking to them
in a foreign tongue, and to Sir Archie's ear the
words were like the crack of a lash. The hesitation
was only for a moment, for a voice among them
cried out, and the whole pack gave tongue shrilly
and surged on again. But that instant of check had
given the stranger his chance. He was up the
ladder, and, gripping the parapet, found rest for
his feet in a fissure. Then he bent down, drew up
the ladder, handed it to McGuffog and with a
mighty heave pulled himself over the top.</p>
<p>He seemed to hope to defend the verandah, but
the door at the west end was being assailed by a
contingent of the enemy, and he saw that its thin
woodwork was yielding.</p>
<p>"Into the House," he cried, as he picked up the
ladder and tossed it over the wall on the pack surging
below. He was only just in time, for the west
door yielded. In two steps he had followed McGuffog
through the chink into the passage, and the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_274" id="Page_274"></SPAN></span>
concussion of the grand piano pushed hard against
the verandah door from within coincided with the
first battering on the said door from without.</p>
<p>In the garden-room the feeble lamp showed a
strange grouping. Saskia had sunk into a chair to
get her breath, and seemed too dazed to be aware
of her surroundings. Dougal was manfully striving
to appear at his ease, but his lip was quivering.</p>
<p>"A near thing that time," he observed. "It was
the blame of that man's auld motor-bicycle."</p>
<p>The stranger cast sharp eyes around the place
and company.</p>
<p>"An awkward corner, gentlemen," he said.
"How many are there of you? Four men and a
boy? And you have placed guards at all the entrances?"</p>
<p>"They have bombs," Sir Archie reminded him.</p>
<p>"No doubt. But I do not think they will use
them here—or their guns, unless there is no other
way. Their purpose is kidnapping, and they hope
to do it secretly and slip off without leaving a trace.
If they slaughter us, as they easily can, the cry will
be out against them, and their vessel will be unpleasantly
hunted. Half their purpose is already
spoiled, for it is no longer secret.... They may
break us by sheer weight, and I fancy the first
shooting will be done by us. It's the windows I'm
afraid of."</p>
<p>Some tone in his quiet voice reached the girl in
the wicker chair. She looked up wildly, saw him
and with a cry of "Alesha" ran to his arms. There
she hung, while his hand fondled her hair, like a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_275" id="Page_275"></SPAN></span>
mother with a scared child. Sir Archie, watching
the whole thing in some stupefaction, thought he
had never in his days seen more nobly matched
human creatures.</p>
<p>"It is my friend," she cried triumphantly, "the
friend whom I appointed to meet me here. Oh, I
did well to trust him. Now we need not fear anything."</p>
<p>As if in ironical answer came a great crashing at
the verandah door, and the twanging of chords
cruelly mishandled. The grand piano was suffering
internally from the assaults of the boiler-house
ladder.</p>
<p>"Wull I gie them a shot?" was McGuffog's hoarse
inquiry.</p>
<p>"Action stations," Alexis ordered, for the command
seemed to have shifted to him from Dougal.
"The windows are the danger. The boy will patrol
the ground floor, and give us warning, and I and
this man," pointing to Sime, "will be ready at the
threatened point. And for God's sake no shooting,
unless I give the word. If we take them on at that
game we haven't a chance."</p>
<p>He said something to Saskia in Russian and she
smiled assent and went to Sir Archie's side. "You
and I must keep this door," she said.</p>
<p>Sir Archie was never very clear afterwards about
the events of the next hour. The Princess was in
the maddest spirits, as if the burden of three years
had slipped from her and she was back in her first
girlhood. She sang as she carried more lumber to
the pile—perhaps the song which had once en<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_276" id="Page_276"></SPAN></span>tranced
Heritage, but Sir Archie had no ear for
music. She mocked at the furious blows which
rained at the other end, for the door had gone now,
and in the windy gap could be seen a blur of dark
faces. Oddly enough, he found his own spirits
mounting to meet hers. It was real business at last,
the qualms of the civilian had been forgotten, and
there was rising in him that joy in a scrap which
had once made him one of the most daring airmen
on the Western Front. The only thing that worried
him now was the coyness about shooting.
What on earth were his rifles and shot-guns for
unless to be used? He had seen the enemy from
the verandah wall, and a more ruffianly crew he had
never dreamed of. They meant the uttermost business,
and against such it was surely the duty of good
citizens to wage whole-hearted war.</p>
<p>The Princess was humming to herself a nursery
rhyme. "The King of Spain's daughter," she
crooned, "came to visit me, and all for the sake——Oh,
that poor piano!" In her clear voice she cried
something in Russian, and the wind carried a laugh
from the verandah. At the sound of it she stopped.
"I had forgotten," she said. "Paul is there. I had
forgotten." After that she was very quiet, but she
redoubled her labours at the barricade.</p>
<p>To the man it seemed that the pressure from
without was slackening. He called to McGuffog to
ask about the garden-room window, and the reply
was reassuring. The gamekeeper was gloomily
contemplating Dougal's tubs of water and wire-<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_277" id="Page_277"></SPAN></span>netting,
as he might have contemplated a vermin
trap.</p>
<p>Sir Archie was growing acutely anxious—the
anxiety of the defender of a straggling fortress
which is vulnerable at a dozen points. It seemed
to him that strange noises were coming from the
rooms beyond the hall. Did the back door lie that
way? And was not there a smell of smoke in the
air? If they tried fire in such a gale the place would
burn like matchwood.</p>
<p>He left his post and in the hall found Dougal.</p>
<p>"All quiet," the Chieftain reported. "Far ower
quiet. I don't like it. The enemy's no' puttin' out
his strength yet. The Russian says a' the west
windies are terrible dangerous. Him and the chauffeur's
doin' their best, but ye can't block thae
muckle glass panes."</p>
<p>He returned to the Princess, and found that the
attack had indeed languished on that particular barricade.
The withers of the grand piano were left
unwrung, and only a faint scuffling informed him
that the verandah was not empty. "They're gathering
for an attack elsewhere," he told himself.
But what if that attack were a feint? He and McGuffog
must stick to their post, for in his belief the
verandah door and the garden-room window were
the easiest places where an entry in mass could be
forced.</p>
<p>Suddenly Dougal's whistle blew, and with it came
a most almighty crash somewhere towards the west
side. With a shout of "Hold tight, McGuffog,"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_278" id="Page_278"></SPAN></span>
Sir Archie bolted into the hall, and, led by the
sound, reached what had once been the ladies' bedroom.
A strange sight met his eyes, for the whole
framework of one window seemed to have been
thrust inward, and in the gap Alexis was swinging
a fender. Three of the enemy were in the room—one
senseless on the floor, one in the grip of Sime,
whose single hand was tightly clenched on his
throat, and one engaged with Dougal in a corner.
The Die-Hard leader was sore pressed, and to his
help Sir Archie went. The fresh assault made the
seaman duck his head, and Dougal seized the occasion
to smite him hard with something which caused
him to roll over. It was Spidel's life-preserver
which he had annexed that afternoon.</p>
<p>Alexis at the window seemed to have for a moment
daunted the attack. "Bring that table," he
cried, and the thing was jammed into the gap.
"Now you"—this to Sime—"get the man from the
back door to hold this place with his gun. There's
no attack there. It's about time for shooting now,
or we'll have them in our rear. What in heaven is
that?"</p>
<p>It was McGuffog whose great bellow resounded
down the corridor. Sir Archie turned and shuffled
back, to be met by a distressing spectacle. The
lamp, burning as peacefully as it might have burned
on an old lady's tea-table, revealed the window of
the garden-room driven bodily inward, shutters and
all, and now forming an inclined bridge over
Dougal's ineffectual tubs. In front of it stood McGuffog,
swinging his gun by the barrel and yelling<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_279" id="Page_279"></SPAN></span>
curses, which, being mainly couched in the vernacular,
were happily meaningless to Saskia. She
herself stood at the hall door, plucking at something
hidden in her breast. He saw that it was a
little ivory-handled pistol.</p>
<p>The enemy's feint had succeeded, for even as Sir
Archie looked three men leaped into the room. On
the neck of one the butt of McGuffog's gun crashed,
but two scrambled to their feet and made for the
girl. Sir Archie met the first with his fist, a clean
drive on the jaw, followed by a damaging hook
with his left that put him out of action. The other
hesitated for an instant and was lost, for McGuffog
caught him by the waist from behind and sent him
through the broken frame to join his comrades
without.</p>
<p>"Up the stairs," Dougal was shouting, for the
little room beyond the hall was clearly impossible.
"Our flank's turned. They're pourin' through the
other windy." Out of a corner of his eye Sir Archie
caught sight of Alexis, with Sime and Carfrae in
support, being slowly forced towards them along
the corridor. "Upstairs," he shouted. "Come on,
McGuffog. Lead on, Princess." He dashed out
the lamp, and the place was in darkness.</p>
<p>With this retreat from the forward trench line
ended the opening phase of the battle. It was
achieved in good order, and position was taken up
on the first-floor landing, dominating the main staircase
and the passage that led to the back stairs. At
their back was a short corridor ending in a window
which gave on the north side of the House above<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_280" id="Page_280"></SPAN></span>
the verandah, and from which an active man might
descend to the verandah roof. It had been carefully
reconnoitred beforehand by Dougal, and his
were the dispositions.</p>
<p>The odd thing was that the retreating force were
in good heart. The three men from the Mains
were warming to their work, and McGuffog wore
an air of genial ferocity. "Dashed fine position I
call this," said Sir Archie. Only Alexis was silent
and preoccupied. "We are still at their mercy," he
said. "Pray God your police come soon." He
forbade shooting yet awhile. "The lady is our
strong card," he said. "They won't use their guns
while she is with us, but if it ever comes to shooting
they can wipe us out in a couple of minutes. One
of you watch that window, for Paul Abreskov is no
fool."</p>
<p>Their exhilaration was short-lived. Below in the
hall it was black darkness save for a greyness at
the entrance of the verandah passage; but the defence
was soon aware that the place was thick with
men. Presently there came a scuffling from Carfrae's
post towards the back stairs, and a cry as of
some one choking. And at the same moment a flare
was lit below which brought the whole hall from
floor to rafters into blinding light.</p>
<p>It revealed a crowd of figures, some still in the
hall and some half-way up the stairs, and it revealed,
too, more figures at the end of the upper landing
where Carfrae had been stationed. The shapes
were motionless like mannequins in a shop window.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_281" id="Page_281"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"They've got us treed all right," Sir Archie
groaned. "What the devil are they waiting for?"</p>
<p>"They wait for their leader," said Alexis.</p>
<p>No one of the party will ever forget the ensuing
minutes. After the hubbub of the barricades the
ominous silence was like icy water, chilling and
petrifying with an indefinable fear. There was no
sound but the wind, but presently mingled with it
came odd wild voices.</p>
<p>"Hear to the whaups," McGuffog whispered.</p>
<p>Sir Archie, who found the tension unbearable,
sought relief in contradiction. "You're an unscientific
brute, McGuffog," he told his henchman. "It's
a disgrace that a gamekeeper should be such a
rotten naturalist. What would whaups be doin'
here at this time of year?"</p>
<p>"A' the same, I could swear it's whaups, Sir
Erchibald."</p>
<p>Then Dougal broke in and his voice was excited.
"It's no whaups. That's our patrol signal. Man,
there's hope for us yet. I believe it's the polis."</p>
<p>His words were unheeded, for the figures below
drew apart and a young man came through them.
His beautifully-shaped dark head was bare, and as
he moved he unbuttoned his oilskins and showed the
trim dark-blue garb of the yachtsman. He walked
confidently up the stairs, an odd elegant figure
among his heavy companions.</p>
<p>"Good afternoon, Alexis," he said in English.
"I think we may now regard this interesting episode
as closed. I take it that you surrender.
Saskia, dear, you are coming with me on a little<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_282" id="Page_282"></SPAN></span>
journey. Will you tell my men where to find your
baggage?"</p>
<p>The reply was in Russian. Alexis' voice was as
cool as the other's, and it seemed to wake him to
anger. He replied in a rapid torrent of words, and
appealed to the men below, who shouted back. The
flare was dying down, and shadows again hid most
of the hall.</p>
<p>Dougal crept up behind Sir Archie. "Here, I
think it's the polis. They're whistlin' outbye, and
I hear folk cryin' to each other—no' the foreigners."</p>
<p>Again Alexis spoke, and then Saskia joined in.
What she said rang sharp with contempt, and her
fingers played with her little pistol.</p>
<p>Suddenly before the young man could answer
Dobson bustled towards him. The innkeeper was
labouring under some strong emotion, for he seemed
to be pleading and pointing urgently towards the
door.</p>
<p>"I tell ye it's the polis," whispered Dougal.
"They're nickit."</p>
<p>There was a swaying in the crowd and anxious
faces. Men surged in, whispered and went out, and
a clamour arose which the leader stilled with a fierce
gesture.</p>
<p>"You there," he cried, looking up, "you English.
We mean you no ill, but I require you to hand over
to me the lady and the Russian who is with her. I
give you a minute by my watch to decide. If you
refuse my men are behind you and around you, and
you go with me to be punished at my leisure."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_283" id="Page_283"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I warn you," cried Sir Archie. "We are armed,
and will shoot down any one who dares to lay a
hand on us."</p>
<p>"You fool," came the answer. "I can send you
all to eternity before you touch a trigger."</p>
<p>L�on was by his side now—L�on and Spidel,
imploring him to do something which he angrily
refused. Outside there was a new clamour, faces
showing at the door and then vanishing, and an
anxious hum filled the hall.... Dobson appeared
again and this time he was a figure of fury.</p>
<p>"Are ye daft, man?" he cried. "I tell ye the
polis are closin' round us, and there's no' a moment
to lose if we would get back to the boats. If ye'll
no' think o' your own neck, I'm thinkin' o' mine.
The whole thing's a bloody misfire. Come on, lads,
if ye're no' besotted on destruction."</p>
<p>L�on laid a hand on the leader's arm and was
roughly shaken off. Spidel fared no better, and the
little group on the upper landing saw the two shrug
their shoulders and make for the door. The hall
was emptying fast, and the watchers had gone from
the back stairs. The young man's voice rose to a
scream; he commanded, threatened, cursed; but
panic was in the air and he had lost his mastery.</p>
<p>"Quick," croaked Dougal, "now's the time for
the counter-attack."</p>
<p>But the figure on the stairs held them motionless.
They could not see his face, but by instinct they
knew that it was distraught with fury and defeat.
The flare blazed up again as the flame caught a knot<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_284" id="Page_284"></SPAN></span>
of fresh powder, and once more the place was bright
with the uncanny light.... The hall was empty
save for the pale man who was in the act of
turning.</p>
<p>He looked back. "If I go now, I will return.
The world is not wide enough to hide you from me,
Saskia."</p>
<p>"You will never get her," said Alexis.</p>
<p>A sudden devil flamed into his eyes, the devil of
some ancestral savagery, which would destroy what
is desired but unattainable. He swung round, his
hand went to his pocket, something clicked, and his
arm shot out like a baseball pitcher's.</p>
<p>So intent was the gaze of the others on him, that
they did not see a second figure ascending the stairs.
Just as Alexis flung himself before the Princess, the
new-comer caught the young man's outstretched
arm and wrenched something from his hand. The
next second he had hurled it into a far corner where
stood the great fireplace. There was a blinding
sheet of flame, a dull roar, and then billow upon
billow of acrid smoke. As it cleared they saw that
the fine Italian chimneypiece, the pride of the
builder of the House, was a mass of splinters, and
that a great hole had been blown through the wall
into what had been the dining-room.... A figure
was sitting on the bottom step feeling its bruises.
The last enemy had gone.</p>
<p>When Mr. John Heritage raised his eyes he saw
the Princess with a very pale face in the arms of a
tall man whom he had never seen before. If he
was surprised at the sight, he did not show it.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_285" id="Page_285"></SPAN></span>
"Nasty little bomb that. Time fuse. I remember
we struck the brand first in July '18."</p>
<p>"Are they rounded up?" Sir Archie asked.</p>
<p>"They've bolted. Whether they'll get away is
another matter. I left half the mounted police a
minute ago at the top of the West Lodge avenue.
The other lot went to the Garplefoot to cut off the
boats."</p>
<p>"Good Lord, man," Sir Archie cried, "the police
have been here for the last ten minutes."</p>
<p>"You're wrong. They came with me."</p>
<p>"Then what on earth——?" began the astonished
baronet. He stopped short, for he suddenly
got his answer. Into the hall from the verandah
limped a boy. Never was there seen so ruinous a
child. He was dripping wet, his shirt was all but
torn off his back, his bleeding nose was poorly
staunched by a wisp of handkerchief, his breeches
were in ribbons, and his poor bare legs looked as if
they had been comprehensively kicked and scratched.
Limpingly he entered, yet with a kind of pride, like
some small cock-sparrow who has lost most of his
plumage but has vanquished his adversary.</p>
<p>With a yell Dougal went down the stairs. The
boy saluted him, and they gravely shook hands. It
was the meeting of Wellington and Bl�cher.</p>
<p>The Chieftain's voice shrilled in triumph, but
there was a break in it. The glory was almost too
great to be borne.</p>
<p>"I kenned it," he cried. "It was the Gorbals
Die-Hards. There stands the man that done it....
Ye'll no' fickle Thomas Yownie."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_286" id="Page_286"></SPAN></span></p>
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