Within the doorway, and at the distance of nine feet, which was the solid thickness of the wall, there was a second door of oak, crossed, both breadth and lengthways, with clenched bars of iron, and studded full of broad-headed nails.  Besides all these defences, they were by no means confident in the truth of the old dame’s assertion, that she alone composed the garrison.  The more knowing of the party had observed hoof-marks in the track by which they approached the tower, which seemed to indicate that several persons had very lately passed in that direction.

To all these difficulties was added their want of means for attacking the place.  There was no hope of procuring ladders long enough to reach the battlements, and the windows, besides being very narrow, were secured with iron bars.  Scaling was therefore out of the question; mining was still more so, for want of tools and gunpowder; neither were the besiegers provided with food, means of shelter, or other conveniences, which might have enabled them to convert the siege into a blockade; and there would, at any rate, have been a risk of relief from some of the marauder’s comrades.  Hobbie grinded and gnashed his teeth, as, walking round the fastness, he could devise no means of making a forcible entry.  At length he suddenly exclaimed, “And what for no do as our fathers did lang syne?—­Put hand to the wark, lads.  Let us cut up bushes and briers, pile them before the door and set fire to them, and smoke that auld devil’s dam as if she were to be reested for bacon.”

All immediately closed with this proposal, and some went to work with swords and knives to cut down the alder and hawthorn bushes which grew by the side of the sluggish stream, many of which were sufficiently decayed and dried for their purpose, while others began to collect them in a large stack, properly disposed for burning, as close to the iron-grate as they could be piled.  Fire was speedily obtained from one of their guns, and Hobbie was already advancing to the pile with a kindled brand, when the surly face of the robber, and the muzzle of a musquetoon, were partially shown at a shot-hole which flanked the entrance.  “Mony thanks to ye,” he said, scoffingly, “for collecting sae muckle winter eilding for us; but if ye step a foot nearer it wi’ that lunt, it’s be the dearest step ye ever made in your days.”

“We’ll sune see that,” said Hobbie, advancing fearlessly with the torch.

The marauder snapped his piece at him, which, fortunately for our honest friend, did not go off; while Earnscliff, firing at the same moment at the narrow aperture and slight mark afforded by the robber’s face, grazed the side of his head with a bullet.  He had apparently calculated upon his post affording him more security, for he no sooner felt the wound, though a very slight one, than he requested a parley, and demanded to know what they meant by attacking in this fashion a peaceable and honest man, and shedding his blood in that lawless manner?