"Hitherto," he said to himself, "I have ever restrained my men, and
have endeavoured to protect the peasants from violence; henceforward,
so long as we remain in Bavaria, no word of mine shall be uttered
to save one of these murderous peasants. However, I am not with my
company yet. The army is two marches ahead, and must by this time
be in front of Ingolstadt. I have been two days without food, and
see but little chance of getting any until I rejoin them, and the
whole country between us is swarming with an infuriated peasantry.
The prospect is certainly not a bright one. I would give a year's
pay to hear the sound of a Swedish trumpet."
When darkness had fairly set in Malcolm started on his way again.
Although his limbs still smarted from the weals and sores left
by the cords they had now recovered their lissomeness; but he was
weak from want of food, and no longer walked with the free elastic
stride which distinguished the Scottish infantry. His wrists gave
him great pain, being both terribly burned, and every movement of
the hand sent a thrill of agony up the arm. He persisted, however,
in frequently opening and clenching his hands, regardless of the
pain, for he feared that did he not do so they would stiffen and
he would be unable to grasp a sword. Fortunately the wounds were
principally on the upper side of the thumbs, where the flesh was
burned away to the bone, but the sinews and muscles of the wrists
had to a great extent escaped.
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