“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.