“It is not a man, for he would have two arms,” said one of the soldiers.
“It would be strange, if a man could not have an arm missing.”
“Strange indeed! Perhaps it is a pillar-saint.”
“Give him a charge of powder, and we shall soon see.”
At the rattle of arms which was now heard there, rose a howl so terrible and multitudinous, that no one thought it came from the pillar-saint. At the same time the apparent heap of stones moved and became a living mass.
“They are wolves! Aim! Fire!”
A volley was fired, and the wolves fled. Königsmarck rode through the smoke, and now saw a one-armed Imperialist standing on the chimney, which was all that was left of a burnt cottage. “Come down, and let us look at you,” he said.
The maimed man clambered down with his single arm, showing incredible agility. “We ought to have him to scale the wall with a storming-party,” said the General to himself.
Then the examination commenced.
“Are you alone?”