those within hastened to let down the drawbridge to receive and shelter their flying countrymen. Onwards came the confused mass of friends and foes,--the shouts of the victors mingling with the cries of the vanquished, and thundering over the drawbridge, the pursued and their pursuers entered the castle together. The few soldiers that were in the place could render them but little assistance in making head against their enemies; and the whole, with the exception of two priests, and some women and children, were indiscriminately put to the sword. Having cleared the place of the dead bodies of the English, and taken precautions against a surprise during the time they might remain, they proceeded to search the castle, in which was found a rich booty in money, besides a plentiful stock of provisions and other stores. A part of this valuable pillage they conveyed by night to Shortwood Forest, where they prepared pits[76] and other places for its concealment, there to remain as a resource against future emergencies. The nonjurors under Wallace were not as yet sufficiently numerous to enable him to put garrisons in those fortresses which fell into his hands. It was therefore wisely determined to demolish every place of strength that was likely to afford their enemies a footing in the country. Hardy themselves, and inured to the inclemency of the weather, they cared little for those comforts which were indispensable to their more luxurious neighbours. In summer, the forest spread its leafy canopy over their slumbers; and, in winter, their robust and sinewy frames felt little inconvenience, though exposed, in their dens and caverns, to all the rigour of the merciless elements. Such men heard with indifference, and executed with alacrity, the command which their leader gave for the destruction of Kincleven Castle. After securing that part of the iron work which might be useful in their sylvan retreats, the remaining furniture and lumber were formed into piles; and, at the dead hour of night, the conflagration rose in volumes to the sky. From the lateness of the hour, and the secluded situation of the castle, its fate remained unknown until the morning, when the smoke, which continued to ascend from the ruins, led the country people to the knowledge of the desolating vengeance which had overtaken their oppressors. The females, who had been allowed to depart before the work of destruction commenced, carried to St Johnstone the melancholy account of their disaster. The grief and indignation which were felt among the English at St Johnstone, on hearing the doleful recital of the slaughter of their countrymen, induced Sir Gerald Heron,[77] the governor, to allow Sir John Butler, son of the forementioned Sir James, to follow the Scots with all the force of the garrison, to revenge the death of his father. In this undertaking he was joined by Sir William de Lorayne, an officer of reputation, and a great favourite with the soldiery.