Soon he saw a number of dark figures bearing on their heads great bundles which he knew to be faggots approaching across the snow.

As they approached a brisk fire suddenly opened on the tower.  Malcolm at once called the sentry down.

“It is of no use exposing yourself,” he said, “and we could not do much harm to them did we take to stoning them again.  We have nothing to do now but to wait.”

Soon a series of dull heavy crashes were heard as the faggots were thrown down against the door.  Malcolm descended the stairs until he reached the lowest loophole which lighted them, and which was a few feet above the top of the door.  He took one of the men with him.

“Here are my flask and bullet pouch,” he said.  “Do you reload my pistols as I discharge them.”

For some minutes the sound of the faggots being thrown down continued, then the footsteps were heard retreating, and all was quiet again.

“Now it is our turn again,” Malcolm said.  “It is one thing to prepare a fire and another to light it, my fine fellows.  I expect that you have forgotten that there are firearms here.”

Presently a light was seen in the distance, and two men with blazing brands approached.  They advanced confidently until within twenty yards of the tower, then there was the sharp crack of a pistol, and one of them fell forward on his face, the other hesitated and stood irresolute, then, summoning up courage, he sprang forward.

As he did so another shot flashed out, and he, too, fell prostrate, the brand hissing and spluttering in the snow a few feet from the pile of brushwood.  A loud yell of rage and disappointment arose on the night air, showing how large was the number of peasants who were watching the operations.  Some time elapsed before any further move was made on the part of the assailants, then some twenty points of light were seen approaching.

“Donald,” Malcolm said to the soldier, “go up to the top of the tower with your comrades.  They are sure to light the pile this time, but if it is only fired in one place you may possibly dash out the light with a stone.”

The lights rapidly approached, but when the bearers came within forty yards they stopped.  They were a wild group, as, with their unkempt hair and beards, and their rough attire, they stood holding the lighted brands above their heads.  A very tall and powerful man stood at their head.

“Come on,” he said, “why do you hesitate?  Let us finish with them.”  And he rushed forward.

Malcolm had his pistol lying on the sill of the loophole covering him, and when the peasant had run ten paces he fired, and the man fell headlong.  The others stopped, and a second shot took effect among them.  With a yell of terror they hurled the brands towards the pile and fled.  Most of the brands fell short, others missed their aim, but from his loophole Malcolm saw that one had fallen on to the outside faggot of the pile.