devilish queer things will happen before to-morrow morning."




CHAPTER IX


THE FIRST BATTLE OF THE CRUIVES


The old keep of Huntingtower stood some three hundred yards from the
edge of the cliffs, a gnarled wood of hazels and oaks protecting it
from the sea-winds. It was still in fair preservation, having till
twenty years before been an adjunct of the house of Dalquharter, and
used as kitchen, buttery, and servants' quarters. There had been
residential wings attached, dating from the mid-eighteenth century,
but these had been pulled down and used for the foundations of
the new mansion. Now it stood a lonely shell, its three storeys,
each a single great room connected by a spiral stone staircase,
being dedicated to lumber and the storage of produce. But it was dry
and intact, its massive oak doors defied any weapon short of
artillery, its narrow unglazed windows would scarcely have admitted a
cat--a place portentously strong, gloomy, but yet habitable.

Dougal opened the main door with a massy key. "The lassie fund it,"
he whispered to Dickson, "somewhere about the kitchen--and I guessed
it was the key o' this castle. I was thinkin' that if things got
ower hot it would be a good plan to flit here. Change our base, like."
The Chieftain's occasional studies in war had trained his tongue