“I’ll have you before me, yet, you dog!” he cried.
“And commit me for trial then,” said the man with a laugh. “Not this time. Now, my lads, ready?”
“Ay.”
“Off!”
“Halt!”
There was a fierce murmur at this last command, uttered in a good ringing military voice, and Sir John’s heart leaped, and the major thought better of the speaker than he had ever thought before, as they both recognised the voice.
“Down with him, lads, he’s only one,” growled another.
“Halt, or by Gad I’ll fire,” cried Rolph again.
It all happened in an instant. There was the sound of a blow, which the captain received on his left arm; of another which came full upon his head, and then there was a flash, cutting the darkness and lighting up the faces of a group of men, a ringing report, and a moan, as Rolph fell back heavily to the ground.
What followed was a hurried muttering of voices amid painful, hoarse breathing, and, in the darkness, the major could just make out that men were lifting a burden.