He gave the foe a minute or two to fix and point their weapon, and once more carefully calculated the poise of his own.

Then, just as they were proceeding to load, and the horsemen were preparing to follow up the attack on the gate, he applied the match, and with a mighty roar the piece discharged.
It was an anxious moment while the smoke slowly cleared away.

When it did he had the joy of beholding the enemy's gun on end and disabled, and not only it, but at least three of the enemy themselves involved in the same disaster.
He could not resist a triumphant cheer at this success, which was promptly answered by a defiant shout from the enraged Macfies as they set spurs to their horses and rushed towards the moat.
And now began the hard work of the night.

For the foe thought nothing of such a narrow obstacle as a simple ditch.

Some swam it on horseback, and some left their animals behind, but all--all except two whom Singleton's trusty muskets had found out--crossed in safety.