At
times the horses went forward at a gallop, but more often they
walked; when they galloped the man with his arm in the sling
complained. Whenever the horses dropped into a walk, the leader
talked to one of the prisoners.
"You fight like the very devil, my friend," he said; "but we
were too many by six. Mind, I think none the less of you for
your attempt; freedom is always worth fighting for. As I said
before, no harm is meant to you, physically; as to the moral
side, that doesn't concern me. You have disabled four of my men,
and have scarcely a dozen scratches to show for it. I wanted to
take only four men with me; I was ordered to take eight. The
hand of providence is in it."
"You wouldn't be so polite, Colonel," spoke up the trooper whose
arm was in the sling, "if you had got this crack."
"Baron, who told you to call me Colonel?" the leader demanded.
"Why, we are out of the city; there's no harm now that I can see."
"Is it possible," said Maurice ironically, "that I have had the
honor of hitting a baron on the head and breaking his arm?"
The baron muttered a curse and fell back.
"And you," went on Maurice, addressing the leader, "are a
Colonel?"
"Yes.
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