o the rear, across half a dozen meadows, over
which Tristram was hurried at a quick trot, with the point of a
bayonet at his back to discountenance delay. On arriving at the
building he was held while the sergeant unlocked the door. Then he
was kicked into inner darkness. He stumbled over the legs of a man
who cursed him volubly, and dropped on to a heap of straw.
Within ten minutes he was asleep, utterly worn out both in body and
mind.

Three hours passed, and then the door of the barn was flung open and
another sergeant appeared with a squad of soldiers at his back.
He strode through the barn, kicking the sleepers, among whom was our
hero. Tristram sat up and rubbed his eyes. He was one of at least
three dozen poor wretches, hollow-eyed, lean of cheek, and shivering
with famine, whom the sergeant proceeded to drive into a small crowd
near the entrance, shouting an order which was repeated outside.
Six men appeared, each carrying a load of chains. With these he
fastened his prisoners together, two-and-two, by the wrist and ankle,
and marched them out into the open air.

Outside the rain was descending sullenly, and in this downpour the
captives waited for a mortal hour. Then three men came along,
bearing trays heaped up with thick hunks of brown bread. A hunk was
doled out to each of the gang, and Tristram ate his portion greedily,
slaking his thirst afterwards by sucking at the sleeve of his cloak.
He had hardly done when the sergeant gave the word to march.

That day they tramped steadily till sunset, when they reached the
town of Courtrai, and were halted on the outskirts. Here they
remained for half an hour in the road while the sergeant sought for
quarters. Tristram's comrade--that is to say, the man who was
attached to him by the wrist and ankle--was sulky and extremely
dejected. As for Tristram, his very soul shuddered as he looked back
upon the journey. He was wet to the skin and aching; his teeth
chattered with an ague; his legs were so weary that he could scarcely
drag them along. But worse than the shiverings, the weariness, and
the weight of his fetters, were the revolting sights he had witnessed
along the road--men dropping with hunger and faintness, kicked to
their feet again, prodded with bayonets till the blood ran, knouted
with a thick whip if they broke step, jeered at when they shrieked
(as some did) for mercy. There was worse to come, and he alone of
all the gang was ignorant of it