A good fire now blazed in the centre, and the soldiers, confident in themselves and their leader, cracked grim jokes as, their work being finished, they sat down around it and awaited the attack, one of their number being placed on the summit of the tower to give warning of the approach of the enemy.
"I would that we had a musket or two," Malcolm said; "for we might then keep them from the door.

I have only some twenty charges for my pistols, and the most of these, at any rate, I must keep for the defence of the stairs." Presently the sentry from above called out that the peasants were moving forward to the attack.
"Sergeant," Malcolm said, "do you fasten my green scarf to a long strip of plank and fix it to the top of the tower.

We cannot fight under a better banner.

Now let us mount to the roof and give them a warm reception." "Look out, sir," the sentry exclaimed as Malcolm ascended the stair, "three or four of them have got muskets." "Then we must be careful," Malcolm said.

"I don't suppose they are much of marksmen, but even a random shot will tell at times, and I want to take you all back safe with me; so keep low when you get on the roof, lads, and don't show your heads more than you can help." Heralding their attack by a discharge from their muskets, whose balls whistled harmlessly round the tower, the peasants rushed forward to the door and commenced an assault upon it with hatchets and axes.
Malcolm and his men each lifted a heavy stone and rolled it over the parapet, the five loosing the missiles simultaneously.