An hour later, feeling somewhat relieved, he left his hiding place and moved a mile away from the road, as he feared that the peasants, failing to overtake him, might, as they returned, search every possible hiding place near it.  He had no fear of the track being noticed, for the surface of the snow was everywhere marked by parties going and returning to the main body.  He kept on until he saw a small shed.  The door was unfastened; opening it he found that the place was empty, though there were signs that it was usually used as a shelter for cattle.

A rough ladder led to a loft.  This was nearly full of hay.  Malcolm threw himself down on this, and covering himself up thickly, felt the blood again begin to circulate in his limbs.  It brought, however, such a renewal of his pain, that it was not until morning that fatigue overpowered his sufferings and he fell asleep.

It was late in the afternoon when he woke at the sound of shouts and holloaing.  Springing to his feet he looked out between the cracks in the boards and saw a party of forty or fifty peasants passing close by the shed.  They were armed with hatchets, scythes, and pikes.  On the heads of four of the pikes were stuck gory heads, and in the centre of the party were three prisoners, two Swedes and a Scot.  These were covered with blood, and were scarcely able to walk, but were being urged forward with blows and pike thrusts amid the brutal laughter of their captors.

Malcolm retired to his bed full of rage and sorrow.  It would have been madness to have followed his first impulse to sally out sword in hand and fall upon the ruffians, as such a step would only have ensured his own death without assisting the captives.

“Hitherto,” he said to himself, “I have ever restrained my men, and have endeavoured to protect the peasants from violence; henceforward, so long as we remain in Bavaria, no word of mine shall be uttered to save one of these murderous peasants.  However, I am not with my company yet.  The army is two marches ahead, and must by this time be in front of Ingolstadt.  I have been two days without food, and see but little chance of getting any until I rejoin them, and the whole country between us is swarming with an infuriated peasantry.  The prospect is certainly not a bright one.  I would give a year’s pay to hear the sound of a Swedish trumpet.”

When darkness had fairly set in Malcolm started on his way again.  Although his limbs still smarted from the weals and sores left by the cords they had now recovered their lissomeness; but he was weak from want of food, and no longer walked with the free elastic stride which distinguished the Scottish infantry.  His wrists gave him great pain, being both terribly burned, and every movement of the hand sent a thrill of agony up the arm.  He persisted, however, in frequently opening and clenching his hands, regardless of the pain, for he feared that did he not do so they would stiffen and he would be unable to grasp a sword.  Fortunately the wounds were principally on the upper side of the thumbs, where the flesh was burned away to the bone, but the sinews and muscles of the wrists had to a great extent escaped.