The defenders gave
no sign of their presence, no pistol flashed out from window or
loophole.
Striding through the still hot ashes the leader of the woodmen
passed through the doorway and advanced up the stairs. These ran in
short straight flights round the tower, lighted by narrow loopholes.
No resistance was encountered until he reached the last turning,
where a broader glare of light came from the open doorway, where
two of the soldiers, pike in hand, stood ready to repel them. With
a shout to his followers to come on, the peasant sprang forward.
He ascended three steps, and then, as he placed his foot upon the
sharply inclined plane of the door, which he had not noticed, he
stumbled forward. His companions, supposing he had been pierced
with a spear, pressed on after him, but each fell when they trod
upon the door until a heap of men cumbered the stair. These were
not unharmed, for with their long pikes the Scottish spearmen ran
them through and through as they lay.
Their bodies afforded a foothold to those who followed, but these
could make but little way, for as but one could advance at a time,
each as he came on was slain by the pikes. Finding that two were
well able to hold the door, Malcolm with the other ran up to the
top of the tower, and toppled over the stones of the parapet upon
the mass gathered around the door. These at once scattered, and
those on the stairs, finding themselves unable to get forward, for
the narrow passage was now completely choked with the dead, made
their way out again and rejoined their comrades.
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