*THE DEFENCE OF CASTLE AILSA*
Now the Isle of Ailsa is little more than a great lumping crag set askew
in the sea. Nevertheless, it has both landing place and pasturage,
house of refuge and place of defence. The island was not new to me, for
I had once upon a time gone thither out of curiosity after the matter of
Barclay, Laird of Ladyland—who, in his madness, thought to make it a
place of arms for the Papists in the year of the Spanish Armada, but was
prevented and slain at the instance of Andrew Knox, one of the good
reforming name, minister of Paisley. This last was a wonderfully clever
man and accounted a moving preacher; but on this occasion he showed
himself a better fighter—which upon Craig Ailsa, at least, is more to
the purpose.
It was the dusk of the morning when we ran into the spit of shingle
which is upon the eastern side and, watching our chance, we drew the
boat ashore. The sea was chill and calm, only a little ruffled by the
night wind, and the sun was already brightening the sky to the east, so
that the Byne Hill and Brown Carrick stood black against it.
With great stealth and quiet we climbed up the narrow path, seeing
nothing, however, save a pasturing goat that sprang away as we came
near. It was eerie enough work, for the seabirds clanged around us,
yammering and chunnering querulously among themselves on the main cliffs
at the farther side of the isle. It grew a little lighter when we came
out upon the narrow path which leads to the castle.
Suddenly the dark door of the tower loomed before us, very black and
grim. I declare it was like marching up to the cannon’s mouth to walk
up that little flight of stairs which led to the door in the wall.
Nevertheless, I clambered first, with a curious pricking down my back
and a slackness about the knees. So all unscathed we entered. There
was only emptiness in all the chambers. The castle had been almost
wholly ruined and spoiled, for since its taking by the Protestant party,
it had not been touched nor put in defence. ’Now I will bring up the
provender. Keep you the castle,’ said I to the little Dominie, as soon
as we were certified that we were first in possession.
So I went down and made first one backload and then another of those
things which we had bought at Girvan and placed in the boat. I brought
up also all the ammunition for the hackbutt and the pistols. Before I
had finished the sky grew grey and clear, the day breaking nobly with
only a rack of cloud racing up the far side of Kilbrannan Sound to hang
upon the chill shark’s teeth of the mountains of Arran. Upon my return I
was glad to find the castle intact, and the little man seated calmly
with a book in his hand.
’Did you never so much as shut the outer door?’ I asked him.
’And shut you without,’ said he. ’Is it likely? Ye might have had to
come along that footpad with only your limber legs to keep your tail,
and Tam o’ Drummurchie or Sawny Bean jumping ahint ye!’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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