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.  The relief which it afforded him was almost instantaneous, and he seemed to feel life again coursing in his veins.

After a while he was sufficiently restored to be enabled to get from his havresack some bread and meat which he had placed there after finishing his breakfast on the previous morning.  He ate a few mouthfuls, took another long draught of wine, and then felt that he could hope to hold on until morning.  He was unable to rise even into a sitting position, nor would it have availed him had he been able to walk, for he knew not where the armies were lying, nor could he have proceeded a yard in any direction without falling over the bodies which so thickly strewed the ground around him.

Though in fact it wanted but two hours of daylight when he recovered consciousness, the time appeared interminable; but at last, to his delight, a faint gleam of light spread across the sky.  Stronger and stronger did it become until the day was fairly broken.  It was another hour before he heard voices approaching.  Almost holding his breath he listened as they approached, and his heart gave a throb of delight as he heard that they were speaking in Swedish.  A victory had been won, then, for had it not been so, it would have been the Imperialists, not the Swedes, who would have been searching the field of battle.

“There are but few alive,” one voice said, “the cold has finished the work which the enemy began.”

Malcolm, unable to rise, lifted his arm and held it erect to call the attention of the searchers; it was quickly observed.

“There is some one still alive,” the soldier exclaimed, “an officer, too; by his scarf and feathers he belongs to the Green Brigade.”

“These Scotchmen are as hard as iron,” another voice said; “come, bring a stretcher along.”

They were soon by the side of Malcolm.

“Drink this, sir,” one said, kneeling beside him and placing a flask of spirits to his lips; “that will warm your blood, I warrant, and you must be well nigh frozen.”

Malcolm took a few gulps at the potent liquor, then he had strength to say: 

“There is something the matter with my left arm, I can’t move it, and I think I am hit in the body.”