a fire burned on the hearth, and on the table were some loaves
which had evidently been just baked. Malcolm fell upon one of them and
speedily devoured it, and, taking a long draught of rough country wine
from a skin hanging against the wall, he felt another man.

He broke another loaf in two and thrust the pieces into his doublet, and
then sallied out from the cottage again. Still keeping behind the houses
he made his way until he got within view of the fire. Here he saw a
sight which thrilled him with horror. Some eight or ten peasants and
forty or fifty women were yelling and shouting. Fastened against a
post in front of the fire were the remains of a prisoner. He had been
stripped, his ears, nose, hands, and feet cut off, and he was slowly
bleeding to death.

Four other men, bound hand and foot, lay close to the fire. By its
flames Malcolm saw the green scarves that told they were Scotchmen of
his own brigade, and he determined at once to rescue them or die in the
attempt. He crept forward until he reached the edge of the road; then he
raised a pistol and with a steady aim fired at one of the natives, who
fell dead across the fire.

Another shot laid another beside him before the peasants recovered from
their first surprise. Then with a loud shout in German, "Kill--kill! and
spare none!" Malcolm dashed forward. The peasants, believing that they
were attacked by a strong body, fled precipitately in all directions.
Malcolm, on reaching the prisoners, instantly severed their bonds.

"Quick, my lads!" he exclaimed; "we shall have them upon us again in a
minute."

The men in vain tried to struggle to their feet--their limbs were too
numbed to bear them.

"Crawl to the nearest cottage!" Malcolm exclaimed; "we can hold it until
your limbs are recovered."

He caught up from the ground some pikes and scythes which the peasants
had dropped in their flight, and aided the men to make their way to the
nearest cottage. They were but just in time; for the peasants, finding
they were not pursued, had looked round, and seeing but one opponent had
gained courage and were beginning to approach again. Malcolm barred the
door, and then taking down a skin of wine bade his companions take a
drink. There were loaves on the shelves, and these he cut up and handed
to them.

"Quick, lads!" he said; "stamp your legs and swing your arms, and get
the blood in motion. I will keep these fellows at bay a few minutes
longer."

He reload