"Yes. There was only the king with four of his officers there, and my company of foot, and fifty horse. I don't think I can call it an escort, for we went principally as beaters."
"Rustoff missed a grand chance there, Kelly.
"What regiment do you belong to?"
And he again turned to Charlie.
"The Malmoe Regiment. The company is commanded by an English gentleman, who is a neighbour and great friend of my father. His son is an ensign, and my greatest friend. The men are all either Scotch or English, but most of them Scotch."
"They are good soldiers, the Scotch; none better. There are a good many in the Russian service, also in that of Austria and France. They are always faithful, and to be relied upon, even when native troops prove treacherous. And you like Charles of Sweden?"
"There is not a soldier in his army but likes him," Charlie said enthusiastically. "He expects us to do much, but he does more himself. All through the winter, he did everything in his power for us, riding long distances from camp to camp, to visit the sick and to keep up the spirits of the men. If we live roughly, so does he, and, on the march, he will take his meals among the soldiers, and wrap himself up in his cloak, and sleep on the bare ground, just as they do. And as for his bravery, he exposes his life recklessly--too recklessly, we all think--and it seemed a miracle that, always in the front as he was, he should have got through Narva without a scratch."
"Yes, that was a bad bit of business, that Narva," the other said thoughtfully. "Why do you think we were beaten in the horrible way we were?--because the Russians are no cowards."
"No; they made a gallant stand when they recovered from their surprise," Charlie agreed. "But in the first place, they were taken by surprise."
"They ought not to have been," the doctor said angrily. "They had news, two days before, brought by the cavalry, who ought to have defended that pass, but didn't."