She made no resistance as the man led her away, and Glenlyon turned fiercely to the Macdonalds. “Lay down yours arms and surrender,” he commanded. “I’ll not wait much longer.”
They had watched his parley with the girl in silence, knowing well that there was no escape for them; that on their first movement the soldiers would fire; so they stood, gathered together with somber faces, fronting the Campbells. The snow was falling faster; the great clouds had almost obscured the mountains.
Glenlyon drew out his watch.
“Hamilton said five,” he muttered.
It was now five minutes past; he glanced over his men; the Argyllshire regiment, all Campbells, then repeated his commands to the Macdonalds to surrender.
Makian refused and a full murmur of scorn went up from the Macdonalds.
“Then I shall fall on ye without mercy—men, women and children,” said Glenlyon.
There was no sound from the Macdonalds save the faint wail of a frightened child; the chief stood in front of them, his sons beside him. Ronald was not there.
“Fire!” cried Glenlyon.
The volley of musketry echoed down the Glen; a savage cry of triumph broke from the Campbells, as, flinging their guns aside and drawing their swords, they dashed on the Macdonalds.