"We receive more reprehensions than rewards from head-quarters, certainly. But where are the French? Among the hills?" "Close by, man!" "In force, too!" added Chisholm, a smart little sub, who had been watching them from a loop-hole. "There will be heads broken in ten minutes." "I believe you, my boy," answered Evan Macpherson, (a tall fellow, with thick black curly hair and a keen dark eye,) as he adjusted his sword-belt. "They are in force enough to put us all to our mettle." "Stand to your arms, men!" said Ronald; but the order was needless, every man being at his post. "Be bold of heart, my lads!" he added, as he watched the advancing enemy. "We shall soon be succoured." "Not likely," said Macpherson bluntly, "with all due deference to you, Stuart. Mina, the guerilla chief, with his followers, is far down the mountains, and General Walker’s brigade is scarcely within gun-shot; so we may fight till daylight without aid." "Or till doomsday," retorted Stuart, "if the logs hold together, and the ammunition lasts. Blow, Macvurich," said he to the piper; "give us ’_Roderick Mhic Alpain Dubh_,’ and blow till the logs shake around us." The night was clear, the moon shone brightly, and from their loop-holes they saw the French advancing in considerable force,—probably two thousand strong. Their dark figures, enveloped in loose great coats, were seen distinctly dotting the pure white covering of the mountain-side, up the slippery ascent of which they were toiling with infinite labour. "They are advancing in extended order," observed Stuart, "for fear of our sending them a cannon-shot, probably." "Which shows they know nothing about our position." "Certes," said Chisholm, "they are no economists of their persons, to advance upon us over such open ground. They are chasseurs, probably. The moon shines brightly, yet no appointments glitter about them." "Soult is a most indefatigable fool," said Stuart. "He causes his soldiers to fight needlessly. Poor fellows! they must obey their orders; but what benefit is gained, even if this solitary picquet is cut off? The actions at the Pyrenees and before Pampeluna might have taught the ’Lieutenant of the Emperor’ a little experience." "I dare say," said Macpherson, "they are within range now." "Well, then, we will enjoy some shooting with them," replied his captain. "Line the loop-holes,—aim steadily; every bullet is worth its weight in gold to-night. They are twenty to one, but care not for that! Help is at hand." "Get into yer places, lads," said Serjeant Duncan Macrone, "and mind ye ta level low, and gie them ta cauld kail o’ Vittoria het again. Got pless us; but this nicht is cauld eneuch ta freeze ta fery Ness."