The distance
performed on foot was somewhat longer than on the preceding day;
the men were in better spirits, and marched with a brisker step than
that with which they had left the camp. At the end of the fourth
day they approached the wood in which the village was situated.
"I will go on ahead," Malcolm said. "Our approach will probably
have been seen, and unless they know who we are we may meet with
but a rough welcome. Halt the wagon here until one returns with
news that you may proceed, for there may be pitfalls in the road."
Malcolm had kept the horse on which he had ridden to Landsberg, and
it had been tied behind the wagon. During the last day's march he
had been strong enough to ride it. He now dismounted, and taking
the bridle over his arm he entered the wood. He examined the road
cautiously as he went along. He had gone about half way when the
farmer with four of his men armed with pikes suddenly appeared in
the road before him.
"Who are you," the farmer asked, "and what would you here?"
"Do you not remember me?" Malcolm said. "It is but three months
since I was here."
"Bless me, it is our Scottish friend! Why, lad, I knew you not
again, so changed are you. Why, what has happened to you?"
"I have had the fever," Malcolm said, "and have been like to die;
but I thought that a change to the pure air of your hills and
woods here would set me up.
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