This then was his last opportunity.  He rolled himself to the fire, and with his teeth seized the end of one of the burning sticks.  He raised himself into a sitting position, and with the greatest difficulty laid the burning end of the stick across the cords which bound his wrists.  It seemed to him that they would never catch fire.  The flesh scorched and frizzled, and the smoke rose up with that of the burning rope.  The agony was intense, but it was for life, and Malcolm unflinchingly held the burning brand in its place until the cords flew asunder and his hands were free.  Although almost mad with the pain, Malcolm set to work instantly to undo the other ropes.  As soon as one of his arms was free he seized a hatchet, which lay near him, and rapidly cut the rest.  He was not a moment too soon, for as he cut the last knot he heard the sound of steps, and two women appeared at the door.

On seeing their prisoner standing erect with an axe in his hand they turned and fled shrieking loudly.  It was well for Malcolm that they did so, for so stiff and numbed were his limbs that he could scarcely hold the axe, and the slightest push would have thrown him to the ground.

Some minutes passed before, by stamping his feet and rubbing his legs he restored circulation sufficiently to totter across the room.  Then he seized a brand and thrust it into the thatch of the house, having first put on his helmet and placed his sword and pistols in his belt.  His hands were too crippled and powerless to enable him to fasten on the rest of his armour.  He knew that he had no time to lose.  Fortunately the women would not know how weak and helpless he was, for had they returned in a body they could easily have overpowered him; but at any moment the men might arrive, and if he was found there by them his fate was sealed.

Accordingly as soon as he had fired the hut he made his way from the village as quickly as he could crawl along.  He saw behind him the flames rising higher and higher.  The wind was blowing keenly, and the fire spread rapidly from house to house, and by the time he reached the road along which the army had travelled the whole village was in flames.  He felt that he could not travel far, for the intense sufferings which he had endured for twenty-four hours without food or water had exhausted his strength.

His limbs were swollen and bruised from the tightness of the cords, the agony of his burned wrists was terrible, and after proceeding slowly for about a mile he drew off from the broad trampled track which the army had made in passing, and dragging himself to a clump of trees a short distance from the road, made his way through some thick undergrowth and flung himself down.  The night was intensely cold, but this was a relief to him rather than otherwise, for it alleviated the burning pain of his limbs while he kept handfuls of snow applied to his wrists.

Two hours after he had taken refuge he heard a number of men come along the road at a run.  Looking through the bushes he could see by their figures against the snow that they were peasants, and had no doubt that they were the men of the village who had returned and at once started in pursuit of him.