"It is one of them wagabonds that gave you the tar and fedders!" said Carl.
"And assisted at my hanging afterwards!" added Penn, remembering the ghastly face.
Thus retribution followed these men. Gad and Griffin he had seen dead. Was it any satisfaction for him to feel that he was thus avenged? I think, not much. The devil of revenge had no place in his soul; and never for any personal wrong he had received would he have wished to see bloody violence done.
The prisoners were disarmed, and ordered to remain where they were.
"Bring the wounded to me," said Pomp, hastening back to the spot where Withers had fallen.
Stackridge and another were lifting the fallen patriot and bearing him to the shelter of the cave. Pomp assisted, skilfully and tenderly. Then followed those who bore away the wounded prisoners and the guns that had been captured. Pepperill had been ordered to help. He and Carl carried the man whose face Cudjo had slashed. This was the only rebel who had fought obstinately: he had not given up until an arm was broken, and he was blinded by his own blood. Penn and Devitt brought up the rear with the swooning soldier. When half way over they were fired upon by the rebels rallying to the edge of the cliff. Grudd and his men responded sharply, covering their retreat. Penn felt a bullet graze his shoulder. It made but a slight flesh wound there; but, passing down, it entered the heart of the wounded man, whose swoon became the swoon of death. This was the only serious result of the confederate fire.
"I am glad I did not kill him!" said Penn, as they laid the corpse beside the stream.
Then out of the mask of blood which covered the face of the stout fellow who had fought so well, there issued a voice that spoke, in a strange tongue, these words:—
"Was hat man mir gethan? Wo bin ich, mutter?"
But the words were not strange to Carl; neither was the voice strange.