Then he
and his men again continued their journey, the peasants no longer
following. When at some distance from the village he said:
"We must turn and make for the Lech again. It is no farther than it
is to Ingolstadt, and we shall find friends there. These peasants
will go on ahead and raise all the villagers against us, and we
should never get through. What regiment do you belong to, lads?"
for in the darkness he had been unable to see their faces.
"Your own, Captain Graheme. We were in charge of one of the wagons
with sick. The wheel came off, and we were left behind the convoy
while we were mending it. As we were at work, our weapons laid on
the ground, some twenty men sprang out from some bushes hard by
and fell upon us. We killed five or six of them, but were beaten
down and ten of our number were slain. They murdered all the sick
in the wagons and marched us away, bound, to this village where
you found us. Sandy McAlister they had murdered just as you came
up, and we should have had a like horrible fate had you been a few
minutes later. Eh, sir! but it's an awful death to be cut in pieces
by these devils incarnate!"
"Well, lads," Malcolm said, "we will determine that they shall not
take us alive again. If we are overtaken or met by any of these
gangs of peasants we will fight till we die. None of us, I hope, are
afraid of death in fair strife, but the bravest might well shrink
from such a death as that of your poor comrade.
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