'What is he doing here? His regiment fell back with the rest of the army weeks—yes, two months—ago. Can he be a deserter?' suggested Hamilton.
'Scarcely, when making for us in this frantic fashion,' replied Colville.
He came close up to the party, and, halting within ten paces, saluted. Then all could see that he was a hussar, but wan, pale, bearded, and with his braided uniform sorely worn and tattered.
'Come on, my man,' cried Sir Louis Cavagnari; 'come on and tell us how you happen to be here?'
'I am here through God's mercy, sir,' replied the hussar, coming forward, adding, 'Captain Colville—Captain Colville, don't you know me?'
'Robert Wodrow—Heavens above!' exclaimed the latter, holding out his hand, which the former grasped warmly and energetically; 'so you did not perish in the river?'
'It was a pretty close shave, sir,—I shall never be nearer death again, but once,' replied Wodrow, who seemed so faint that he could scarcely stand, and received with gratitude a pull from an officer's brandy flask.
'Have you been a prisoner?' asked Cavagnari.
'No, sir—I was long ill in the hands of the enemy, and was well treated.'
'Then you were not escaping?'