Before Sir James had done more than hear the outline of Halbert's tale,
however, the watchers on the mound gave the signal that the reivers were
coming that way--a matter hitherto doubtful, since no one could guess
whether Walter Stewart would make for Edinburgh or for Doune. With the
utmost agility Sir James sprang up the side of the mound, reconnoitred,
and returned again just as Halbert was trying to stir his master from the
ground, and Malcolm answering sullenly that he would not move--he would
be taken and die with the rest.

'You may save them instead, if you will attend to me,' said Sir James;
and at his words the boy suddenly started up with a look of hope.

'How many fell upon you?' demanded Sir James.

'Full a hundred lances,' replied Halbert (and a lance meant at least
three men). 'It wad be a fule's wark to withstand them. Best bide fast
in the covert, for our horses are sair forfaughten.'

'If there are now more than twenty lances, I am greatly mistaken,'
returned Sir James. 'They must have broken up after striking their blow,
or have sent to secure Glenuskie; and we, falling on them from this
thicket--'

'I see, I see,' cried Halbert. 'Back, ye loons; back among the hazels.
Hold every one his horse ready to mount.'

'With your favour, Sir Squire, I say, bind each man his horse to a tree.
The skene and broadsword, which I see you all wear, will be ten times as
effective on foot.'