"It's the general's own proclamation, your honour. Didn't he say, himself, that his soldiers were not to stale anything, and that they would be severely punished if they did? And didn't he guarantee that we should be paid for everything? He could not blame us for what we have done, and he ought to hang the rest of those thieving villains, when they get back to him." "I wouldn't be too sure about it," Walter said. "He issued a good many proclamations before, but he has never kept the terms of one of them. If I were you, I would leave the village--man, woman, and child--for a few days, at any rate, and see how the Dutchman takes it." But the villagers could not be persuaded that the Dutch general would disapprove of what they had done, and Walter, finding his arguments of no avail, rode off with his men to the village they had left, an hour before; with the parting advice that, if they would not follow his counsel, they should, at any rate, place watchers that night on the roads towards Ginckle's camp, to bring them news of the approach of any body of the enemy's cavalry. But the villagers were too delighted with their day's work to pay much heed to Walter's warning, and, after a general jollification in honour of their victory, retired to rest, thoughtless of danger. It was getting dark when Walter reached the village where he had determined to stay for the night. He ordered the men to keep the saddles on their horses, and to hitch them to the doors of the cabins where they took up their quarters, in readiness for instant movement. He placed one mounted sentry at the entrance to the village, and another a quarter of a mile on the road towards Kilcowan. At nine o'clock, he heard the sound of a horse galloping up to the door, and ran out. It was the sentry at the end of the village. "Kilcowan is on fire, sir!" Walter looked in that direction, and saw a broad glare of light. "Ride out, and bring in the advanced sentry," he said, "as quick as possible." He called the other men out, and bade them mount; that done, they sat, ready to ride off on the return of their comrades. "Here they come, sir," one of the men said, "and I fancy the enemy are after them." Walter listened intently. He could hear a deep thundering noise, which was certainly made by the hoofs of more than two horses. "Face about, men, trot! Keep your horses well in hand, until the others come up, and then ride for it. "Ah, what is that!" As he spoke, there was a shout from the other end of the village, followed instantly by the trampling of horses. "They have surrounded us!" Walter exclaimed. "Shoulder to shoulder, lads, and cut your way through. It's our only chance. Charge!" And, placing himself at the head, he set spurs to his horse and dashed at the approaching enemy.