Dragging his wounded body into the thickly-grown copse, he had lain hidden from sight, baffling the keenest search; and here he had presently lost consciousness.
Loss of blood and anguish had rendered the hapless wretch powerless to help himself, and knowing well what little mercy he had to expect from the Englishmen did they come upon him, had lain there in fear and trembling at every sound until hunger was added to his other torments.
He was nearly blinded with a blow he had received on the face, and now his only hope was to be able to crawl along until he came up with some of his comrades, who would help him to regain their stronghold in the mountains.
"Oh!" he groaned, "a blight upon the hand that struck me down. Oh!"
And the violence of his pains made him give a deep groan.
Mole moved.
Then opened his eyes; and waking, his glance fell upon a ghastly looking object, pale and bloody, dragging itself along.
Coming towards him.
Mole gasped.
This was real, he knew at once; there was no doubt about that.