I have only some twenty charges for
my pistols, and the most of these, at any rate, I must keep for
the defence of the stairs."
Presently the sentry from above called out that the peasants were
moving forward to the attack.
"Sergeant," Malcolm said, "do you fasten my green scarf to a long
strip of plank and fix it to the top of the tower. We cannot fight
under a better banner. Now let us mount to the roof and give them
a warm reception."
"Look out, sir," the sentry exclaimed as Malcolm ascended the stair,
"three or four of them have got muskets."
"Then we must be careful," Malcolm said. "I don't suppose they are
much of marksmen, but even a random shot will tell at times, and I
want to take you all back safe with me; so keep low when you get on
the roof, lads, and don't show your heads more than you can help."
Heralding their attack by a discharge from their muskets, whose
balls whistled harmlessly round the tower, the peasants rushed
forward to the door and commenced an assault upon it with hatchets
and axes.
Malcolm and his men each lifted a heavy stone and rolled it over
the parapet, the five loosing the missiles simultaneously. There
was a dull crash, and with a terrible cry the peasants fled from
the door. Looking over, Malcolm saw that six or seven men had
been struck down. Five of these lay dead or senseless; two were
endeavouring to drag themselves away.
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