“Who’s going to, Shon? We’ll fire something else;” and he gave orders which the old butler, the men, and even the maids hastened to execute, till the battlements and the broad tower over the gateway, which was furnished with the openings called machicolations, used for dropping missiles on an approaching enemy, were fairly well furnished with ammunition.
“How about provisions?” cried Kenneth, as an idea suddenly struck him.
“Ou, there’s plenty, Master Kenneth,” said the butler grimly, as he rather enjoyed what was going on. “There’s half the deer you shot, beside the mutton, and plenty of kippered saumon.”
“Oh ay; and if they try to starve us,” cried Tavish, “we can catch fush from the rock at high water ivery day.”
The preparations went merrily on, every one working in the old Highland spirit, and seeming indued with the idea that it was a duty to defend the home of the Chief of the Clan Mackhai against the enemy that was expected—an enemy that must be baffled at all hazards.
Old Tonal’ was the most excited of all, rushing here and there, and getting in everybody’s way. One minute he was hurrying off to fetch his pipes, and seemed ready to blow. Then he was off again to put them away, to come forth again and go round the castle as far as was possible on the battlements, to see whether there was a weak spot where the foe might get in.
He had completed one of these examinations, and then came to where Kenneth was giving orders.
“Whusht, laddie!” he whispered confidentially.
“Hullo, Tonal’, you?”
“Ay! Whusht!”