making a stout defence against attack.

A strong but roughly made gate, evidently of quite recent make,
hung on the hinges, and passing through it Malcolm found himself
in the courtyard of the castle. Crossing this he entered with his
guide what had once been the principal room of the castle. A good
fire blazed in the centre; around this half a dozen men were lying
on a thick couch of straw. Malcolm's guide repeated the history
of the newcomer, and then passed through with him into a smaller
apartment, where a man was attending to several sauce pans over a
fire.

"Rollo," he said, "I bring you a substitute. You have been always
grumbling about being told off for the cooking, just because you
happened to be the oldest of the band. Here is a lad who will take
your place, and tomorrow you can mount your horse and ride with
the rest of us."

"And be poisoned, I suppose, with bad food when I return," the man
grumbled -- "a nice lookout truly."

"There's one thing, you old grumbler, it is quite certain he cannot
do worse than you do. My jaws ache now with trying to eat the food
you gave us this morning. Another week and you would have starved
the whole band to death."

"Very well," the man said surlily; "we will see whether you have
gained by the exchange. What does this boy know about cooking?"

"Very little, I am afraid," Malcolm said cheerfully; "but at least