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Three Boys; or, the Chiefs of the Clan Mackhai, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 24. Kenneth Resists The Law |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. KENNETH RESISTS THE LAW Three more days glided by, spent in hunting and fishing. Max succeeded in spearing one skate himself, and was nearly pulled out of the boat by the curious fish as it made its final struggle for life. And then a momentous day came, when, after spending the morning in having a glorious sail, during which, as there was a splendid breeze, Max had felt quite comfortable, as he sat well to windward, holding on by the gunwale and helping to act as ballast to keep the boat from going over under the great press of sail Kenneth insisted upon carrying, they ran softly in under shelter of the rocks, and were approaching the castle landing-place, when Tavish came rushing up breathlessly. "Come oot!" he roared. "Come oot, laddies!" "What's the matter, Tavvy? Has my father--" "Nay, laddie; he's no' come back. Come oot! come oot!" The boat was run in, Scoodrach left to moor her, and Kenneth leaped ashore. "What's wrong?" he cried, as he was saluted by a burst of baying from the dogs, which had been waiting their master's return. "Wrang, my laddie? She had to gang doon to Kinlochai, and there she found ta bailies." "What, at the farm?" "At ta fairm, laddie, noo. An ugly, pock-faaced chief wi' hauf a dizzen loons asked me ta way to Dunroe. He's a bailie coming to tak' ta place." "What? Nonsense, Tavvy!" "Hey, but it's nae nonsense, laddie, for she met Dooncan Graeme, and Dooncan knew her at Glasgie. She's ta bailie, and she's coming to tak' ta Dunroe." "Then she isn't going to have it!" cried Kenneth, flushing. "Bailiffs, indeed! It's all some stupid mistake." "She rin on to tall ye, but ye were awa'," panted Tavish, whose face was streaming. "They're just here, then?" said Kenneth excitedly. "Na; she was askit ta way to Dunroe, and she sent them richt doon through ta mountains, laddie; and they'll nivver get here till some ane sets them richt." "Bravo, Tavish! But it must be all some mistake." "Nay, laddie, it's no meestake. Ta Chief canna pay some siller, and ta bailie's coming to tak' Dunroe." "Is he?" cried Kenneth fiercely. "We'll see about that. Call Long Shon." "She's in ta castle, laddie, getting ta auld gates to. She was going to shut ta gates and keep ta bailie oot." "Bravo, Tavvy! Does Grant know?" "Oh ay, and ivery ane's helping." "That's the beauty of having a castle to live in, Maxy. No one can get in when the tide's up except through the old gateway; and it isn't everybody who can manage it when the tide's down. I say, you won't help, will you?" "Help! of course!" cried Max excitedly. "But what are you going to do?" "Do! shut up the old gates. They can't scale the rock, and they've got no boats, so we'll let them besiege us. Bah! when they find the place locked, they'll go back. Come on." Kenneth hurried them through the house from the rock terrace, leaving the boat swinging to the buoy, and, followed by Tavish, Scoodrach, and the dogs, the two lads made for the old castle yard, whose outer entrance was the only way in unless scaling ladders were brought. Here Grant and Long Shon, with old Tonal' to help, were busily fixing props against the old gates which had been dragged to. "Hurray! Bravo, Grant! Well done, Shon! That's it, Tonal'! That's fast. No one can get in here." Max entered into the spirit of the thing with the most intense enjoyment, following Kenneth through the mouldering old gate tower, and up a crumbling staircase to the broken battlements, of which there was still enough round to allow of any one walking to and fro behind the broken crenelation, between whose teeth they could look down on any one coming up the rocky path from the edge of the bay. The old castle had never before looked so romantic to Max, and he thoroughly realised now how great must have been its strength in ancient days, towering up as it did on the huge promontory of rock, whose sides were steep enough to save it from attack when enemies approached it from the land, the one path being narrow, while from the other side only a foe provided with war galleys could have landed on the terrace, and then beneath the defenders' fire. "We're going to have the siege of Dunroe!" cried Kenneth excitedly. "Now, Grant, and you, Long Shon, help and get up the arms, and we'll defend the place till my father comes." "But ye mauna shute," said Long Shon. "Who's going to, Shon? We'll fire something else;" and he gave orders which the old butler, the men, and even the maids hastened to execute, till the battlements and the broad tower over the gateway, which was furnished with the openings called machicolations, used for dropping missiles on an approaching enemy, were fairly well furnished with ammunition. "How about provisions?" cried Kenneth, as an idea suddenly struck him. "Ou, there's plenty, Master Kenneth," said the butler grimly, as he rather enjoyed what was going on. "There's half the deer you shot, beside the mutton, and plenty of kippered saumon." "Oh ay; and if they try to starve us," cried Tavish, "we can catch fush from the rock at high water ivery day." The preparations went merrily on, every one working in the old Highland spirit, and seeming indued with the idea that it was a duty to defend the home of the Chief of the Clan Mackhai against the enemy that was expected--an enemy that must be baffled at all hazards. Old Tonal' was the most excited of all, rushing here and there, and getting in everybody's way. One minute he was hurrying off to fetch his pipes, and seemed ready to blow. Then he was off again to put them away, to come forth again and go round the castle as far as was possible on the battlements, to see whether there was a weak spot where the foe might get in. He had completed one of these examinations, and then came to where Kenneth was giving orders. "Whusht, laddie!" he whispered confidentially. "Hullo, Tonal', you?" "Ay! Whusht!" "Ready to fight, Tonal'?" "Ay, she'll fecht! she'll fecht for ta auld hame! But whusht, laddie!" "Eh?" cried Kenneth; "what is it?" "Stanes, laddie, stanes." "Stanes! what about 'em?" "Gin ye--but whusht!--gin ye had aboot sax hundert stanes a' retty on ta toor, she could ding them a' doon on ta caterans' heads." "Ah, but we might break their heads, Tonal'. No, no; something softer than that. We'll have water." "Watter? Watter, laddie?" cried the old piper contemptuously. "D'ye want to wash ta enemies o' ta hoose? Stanes,--gran' stanes,--and she'll ding them doon." "No, no, Tonal'; that will not do." The old man stood staring in wonder and disgust as Kenneth hurried away; but directly after he caught sight of Max, and, raising his hand and crooking one finger, he morally took the lad into custody as he approached him slowly. "He will na hearken aboot ta stanes, laddie," whispered the old man mysteriously; "but sneeshing, laddie, sneeshing?" "He's along with Scoodrach," said Max, pointing toward the dog. "There he goes yonder." "Na, na, sneeshing--chust a wee pinch." "Oh no, I have no snuff," said Max. "Nae sneeshing!" muttered the old man, looking round; "she has nae sneeshing!" "Hey!" shouted Scoodrach suddenly; "here they come." Every one hurried to one or other of the openings to look at the approaching enemy, while Tavish stamped savagely on the stones. "She's askit somebody and she's set 'em richt. She didna aught to be here for hoors and hoors, if she cam' back at a'." "Never mind, Tavish!" shouted Kenneth; "we'll soon send them to the right-about." "Hey, ta foe! ta foe!" yelled Tonal', throwing his hands in the air, and yelling at the group about him, before hurrying away and disappearing in the crumbling opening of the corner tower, high up in which he composed his wonderful melodies for the pipes. "Look at auld Tonal'!" cried Scoodrach; "she's gane into her hole like a mause." But no one turned to look at Tonal', for the enemy were approaching fast,--eight or nine sturdy-looking men, headed by a fair, round-faced fellow, speckled and splashed with freckles, so that his countenance was quite yellow, out of which peered, from under a pair of rugged sandy brows, two unpleasant-looking red-rimmed eyes, which blinked and peered and searched about as sharply as those of a monkey, waiting for the keeper with his daily quantum of carrot and dessert of nuts. This man turned for a moment and said something to his followers. Then he took off his flat Tam o' Shanter and gave his head a vicious scratch, which seemed to have the effect of removing a little more of his hair. This, however, was not the fact, only seeming, as his head was bare in patches. Then, replacing his bonnet, he took out a greasy old pocket-book, gave it a slap, and, holding his head on one side like a magpie as he drew out the tuck, he peered in, and took out a piece of folded paper, which he held with his teeth till he had closed and replaced the pocket-book. Next he took hold of the paper, thrust his hand into his coat tail, pulled out a ragged red cotton handkerchief, and blew his nose. Max burst into a roar of laughter, in which Kenneth joined, for to both lads the sounding blast which followed suggested that this was the enemy's trumpet summoning them to surrender. The man stared, and one of his followers touched him on the shoulder. "They're haeing the laugh at ye, mon," he said. "Haud yer gab. They'll be laughing the ither side o' the mooth sune." He walked right up toward the gate, and then started, for Kenneth shouted, "Hallo!" in a sharp, half-menacing way. "Mr Mackhai at home?" said the man. "No, he is not. What do you want?" "Mr Mackhai." "Well, you can't see him; he's out. I'm his son." "Then ye'll just come doon and show me the way in." "You mean the way out." "Oh no, I don't, my whipper-snapper. Is this the way?" "No." "Then which is?" said the man, looking to right and left. "There is no way in for you," said Kenneth; and a murmur of applause followed the words. "Look ye here, my lad," said the man, holding out his paper. "D'ye see this?" "Oh yes, I can see it," cried Kenneth. "Here, Scoody, this gentleman wants a light for his pipe; throw him a box of matches." "No nonsense, please," cried the man. "I come in the name of the law. Sandy, gang and ope that gate." "Gin ye gang that gate," roared Tavish, "I'll break the head o' ye." The man who had stepped forward, started back at this menacing warning, for Tavish suddenly appeared standing up like a giant near the gateway, with something which looked like a great stone in his hand. "Put that doon, mon," cried the bailiff. "Ye'll be getting into trouble. Now, young sir, come doon and ope the gate, and read this paper. I take possession here in the name of the law." "All right!" cried Kenneth mockingly. "Take away." There was a laugh, and Kenneth shouted again,-- "Hi, Grant! you can show him how to take away." "Are you going to open these gates, sir, and let us in?" cried the bailiff, as soon as a hearty laugh had subsided. "No." "Are you going to tell your men to open, then?" "No, I'm not." "Do you know that you are resisting the law, young sir?" "No, but I know I'm resisting you." "By this paper I have proper warrant to take possession of all here." "Have you? Well, I don't care what warrant you have. My father's out, and I'm not going to let a set of ragged-looking Southroners come and do what they please in Dunroe." "I tell you, I have a proper warrant for taking possession." "Then put it back in your pocket, and come again when my father's at home." "Look here, me laddie, it'll be a bad day's wark for ye, if ye resist the law." "You be off, and come again when my father's at home, I tell you." "I've come a' these lang miles, me laddie, and I'm no' gaeing back wi'out takking possession. Noo, ance mair, will ye open the gates?" "No." "Then we must break them in." "Mind we don't break your head in, then, that's all." "If ye daur!" "Oh, we daur. Don't we, Scood?" "Oh ay," roared the young gillie. The bailiff walked back to his men, whispered a few orders, and then turned once more to Kenneth, who was standing now well in sight on the crumbling battlements, with Max by his side. "Noo, my laddie, let's hae a' this bet o' besness settled doucely. Ye'll come doon and open the gates?" "No surrender!" cried Kenneth. "Ye'll hae the gates opened?" "No; so blow your trumpet again. Defiance! There!" He took a clean aim with a great potato; and the bailiff had to dodge the shot very sharply, to avoid receiving the blow on his cheek. But the shot was not wasted, for a man behind had it full in the chest, and a shout arose. "That will do!" cried the bailiff. "You've struck a blow, so you must put up with the consequences. Noo, my lads, come on!" _ |
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