His companions, supposing he had been pierced with a spear, pressed on after him, but each fell when they trod upon the door until a heap of men cumbered the stair.

These were not unharmed, for with their long pikes the Scottish spearmen ran them through and through as they lay.
Their bodies afforded a foothold to those who followed, but these could make but little way, for as but one could advance at a time, each as he came on was slain by the pikes.

Finding that two were well able to hold the door, Malcolm with the other ran up to the top of the tower, and toppled over the stones of the parapet upon the mass gathered around the door.

These at once scattered, and those on the stairs, finding themselves unable to get forward, for the narrow passage was now completely choked with the dead, made their way out again and rejoined their comrades.
"I expect they will send their musketeers first next time," Malcolm said as he rejoined those below, leaving the soldier on the watch.

"Now let us get the door up again, and bring the dead here; we can form a barrier with them breast high." The door was quickly shifted on one side, and then the troopers brought up the dead, who were eleven in number.
"Now replace the door," Malcolm ordered; "fill your iron caps with blood--there is plenty flowing from these fellows--and pour it over the door, it will be as good as oil." This was done, and the bodies were then piled shoulder high across the door.
"They can fire as much as they like now," Malcolm said, "they will be no nearer, and I defy anyone to climb up that door now.".