Walter Fenton and Finland commanded each about twenty musqueteers at the lesser gates, which the insurrectionists assailed pell-mell with hammers and pickaxes, and as nothing but a cruel death could be expected if this mob of infuriated madmen obtained entrance, the poor soldiers fought as much for their lives as for honour and protection of the palace and chapel royal. From a platform of planks and furniture, overlooking the south back of the Canon-gate, Walter's party poured a fire upon the mob with deadly effect; the palace wall was high, the gate strong and well secured, so they hurled ponderous stones and swung hammers against its solid front in vain. So it fared with Finland, who defended the northern doorway of the royal gardens near a little turretted edifice called Queen Mary's Bath. This experienced soldier had speedily made four loop-holes through the strong wall, and the rioters, as they approached the gate, were shot down in such rapid succession that an appalling pile of dead and dying lay before it, forming a barrier so hideous, that their companions began to recoil in dismay, and poured a storm of bullets and abuse from a distance. The blaze from the Abbey hill illuminated the whole garden, and the dark buttresses, the square tower, the deep-ribbed doorway, and tall lancet windows of the beautiful church of the Sancta Crucis were all bathed in a blood-red hue by the flaring sheets of flame that ascended from the burning houses. "St. Bride speed you, my gallant Douglas!" cried Wallace, who, anxious for the maintenance of his post, made a hurried round of the walls. "Art keeping the knaves in check?" "Let the deed show," replied Finland. "By my faith! their dead are lying chin deep without the barrier. 'Twas a brave stroke in tactics this enfilade of the approach; and the flames of yonder great mansion enable my bold hearts to aim with notable precision." "'Tis the noble lodging of the Great Chancellor," rejoined Wallace, turning his flushed face towards the ruddy glow; "and I grieve deeply that many noble dames of the first quality are likely perishing amid yonder flames; however, death is preferable to dishonour at the hands of fanatical clowns. This day they dragged my sister through the streets ..... and in open day--my God!" He ground his teeth and smote his breast. "Malediction!" exclaimed Finland; "can we not succour them?" "Impossible," replied the other, resuming his military nonchalance. "I cannot spare a man. Bonnie blackeyed Maud, of Madertie, and Merry Annie, of Maxwelton, are both yonder; this morning they fled to the house of Perth. God sain them both--now I must see how fares young Fenton." He hurried away, leaving Finland transfixed by what he had revealed. "Follow me, some of ye," he exclaimed; "let six maintain the post. Come on, gallants--we will save these noble dames or die."