Although
almost mad with the pain, Malcolm set to work instantly to undo
the other ropes. As soon as one of his arms was free he seized a
hatchet, which lay near him, and rapidly cut the rest. He was not
a moment too soon, for as he cut the last knot he heard the sound
of steps, and two women appeared at the door.
On seeing their prisoner standing erect with an axe in his hand
they turned and fled shrieking loudly. It was well for Malcolm that
they did so, for so stiff and numbed were his limbs that he could
scarcely hold the axe, and the slightest push would have thrown
him to the ground.
Some minutes passed before, by stamping his feet and rubbing his
legs he restored circulation sufficiently to totter across the
room. Then he seized a brand and thrust it into the thatch of the
house, having first put on his helmet and placed his sword and
pistols in his belt. His hands were too crippled and powerless to
enable him to fasten on the rest of his armour. He knew that he
had no time to lose. Fortunately the women would not know how weak
and helpless he was, for had they returned in a body they could
easily have overpowered him; but at any moment the men might arrive,
and if he was found there by them his fate was sealed.
Accordingly as soon as he had fired the hut he made his way from
the village as quickly as he could crawl along. He saw behind him
the flames rising higher and higher.
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