It needed but a glance
to tell Malcolm that the poor creature was mad, distraught by the
horrors of the previous day.
A peasant stood by leaning on a stick, mournfully regarding her.
He turned suddenly round with the weapon uplifted at the sound of
Malcolm's approach, but lowered it on seeing that the newcomer was
a lad.
"I hoped you were a soldier," the peasant said, as he lowered his
stick. "I should like to kill one, and then to be killed myself. My
God, what is life worth living for in this unhappy country? Three
times since the war began has our village been burned, but each
time we were warned of the approach of the plunderers, and escaped
in time. Yesterday they came when I was away, and see what they
have done;" and be pointed to his wife and child, and to the corpses
scattered about.
"It is terrible," Malcolm replied. "I was taken a prisoner but two
days since at the sack of New Brandenburg, but I have managed to
escape. I am a Scot, and am on my way now to join the army of the
Swedes, which will, I hope, soon punish the villains who have done
this damage."
"I shall take my wife to her mother," the peasant said, "and leave
her there. I hope God will take her soon, and then I will go and
take service under the Swedish king, and will slay till I am slain.
I would kill myself now, but that I would fain avenge my wife and
child on some of these murderers of Tilly's before I die.
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