"Those two advanced pieces are sending a round or two of case shot into the bushes, I suppose," Lindsay said drowsily.
Fergus completed his dressing, and went downstairs and out into the night. Here he could hear much better than in the room above; which had but one loophole for air and light, and that was almost stopped up, with a wisp of straw. He could now plainly hear volley firing, and a continued crackle of musketry. He ran upstairs again.
"You had better get your things on at once, Lindsay. It is a more serious affair than usual. I shall take it upon myself to wake the marshal."
He went to Keith's door, knocked, and opened it.
"Who is there? What is it?" the marshal asked.
"It is I, Drummond, sir. There is heavy firing going on to the right, much heavier than it has been any other night."
"What o'clock is it?"
"About ten minutes past five, sir. There is a thick mist, and it is pitch dark. Shall I go over and inquire what is going on?"
"Yes, do. I expect that those rascally Croats have been reinforced, and are trying to find out whether we are still in our positions."
"I will be back as soon as I can, sir."