“I approve your taste, Miss Wales,” said Mr. Dwight. “I think that little ivy-covered ruin, hidden among the trees, is lovelier than any castle. Come inside and see the stones.”
“Whose graves are they?” asked Betty, following Mr. Dwight across the broken threshold.
“They’re not legibly marked, except this one. Some of the ancient owners of the castle, I suppose.”
“Who did own it?” asked Betty eagerly.
“The old Scottish kings, first of all. They held their court here for hundreds of years, and kept the famous coronation stone here—the one that’s now in Westminster Abbey—until the Norwegians got to be too much for them and they moved the stone to Scone. Then the Norwegians took Dunstaffnage, and after them, their descendants, the Lords of Argyll and Lorne. In Bruce’s time Alexander of Argyll and his son John of Lorne were bitter enemies of the king and almost overthrew him. But Bruce conquered John in the Pass of Brander, close by here, and shut up old Alexander in his own castle. So the family lost their lands to the crown, though they lived on here for over a century longer, and James, Earl of Douglas, met the heads of the family here and tried to induce them to join his cause. In more modern times Flora Macdonald was imprisoned here for helping bonnie Prince Charlie to outwit his enemies and escape to France.”
“How interesting!” said Betty eagerly. “It just gives you thrills to think that you’re standing on such historic ground, doesn’t it? Now I want to see the castle.”
While Betty and Mr. Dwight had been talking in the chapel, Babbie had hurried the others through the wood and around to the front of the castle where the entrance was.
“They couldn’t have doorways on the side toward the sea,” John explained, “because the enemy would have come in small boats, crept up through the wood in the dark, and surrounded them.”
“We can go inside, can’t we?” asked Babbie eagerly, and by the time Betty appeared, Babbie and John were perched on the narrow ledge that ran almost all the way around the top of the crumbling castle wall.
“It’s great!” Babbie cried to the rest, making a trumpet of her hands. “You can see ever so far. Come up, all of you!”