For a time the life blood had flowed steadily
away; but as the cold increased it froze and stiffened on his
jerkin, and at last the wound was staunched.
It was none too soon, for before it ceased to flow Malcolm had lost a
vast quantity of blood. It was hours before nature recovered from
the drain. Gradually and slowly he awoke from his swoon. It was
some time before he realized where he was and what had happened,
then gradually his recollection of the fight returned to him.
"I remember now," he murmured to himself, "I was fighting with the
Swedish infantry when a shot struck me in the body, I think, for I
seemed to feel a sudden pain like a red hot iron. Who won the day,
I wonder? How bitterly cold it is! I feel as if I were freezing
to death."
So faint and stiff was he, partly from loss of blood, partly from
being bruised from head to foot by being trampled on again and
again as the ranks of the combatants swept over him, that it was
some time before he was capable of making the slightest movement.
His left arm was, he found, entirely useless; it was indeed firmly
frozen to the ground; but after some difficulty he succeeded in
moving his right, and felt for the flask which had hung from his
girdle.
So frozen and stiff were his fingers that he was unable to unbuckle
the strap which fastened it; but, drawing his dagger, he at last
cut through this, and removing the stopper of the flask, took a long
draught of the wine with which it was filled.
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