Orange and Green: A Tale of the Boyne and LimerickHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
Orange and Green: A Tale of the Boyne and Limerick
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Historical fiction; Ireland -- History -- War of 1689-1691 -- Fiction
Walter lay with his eyes closed. He well knew that the Enniskilleners
took no prisoners, but killed all who fell into their hands, and he
determined to show no signs of returning consciousness. Presently, he
heard the sound of a party of horsemen returning, and by the exclamations
of disappointment which greeted the news they gave, he learned that some,
at least, of his men had made their escape.
Some time later, several men came up to him. One leaned over him, and put
his hand to his heart.
"He is alive."
"Very well," another voice said. "Then we will take him with us. He is an
officer, and will be able to tell us all about their strength.
"Watkins, you have a strong beast, and do not weigh much. Do you mount,
and then we will tie him to your back."
A minute later Walter was lifted up, and felt that he was placed on a
horse with his back to that of the rider. A rope was wound several times
round his body. He remained perfectly passive, with his head hanging down
on his breast. Then a word of command was given, and the troop set off.
For a time, there was no need for him to pretend insensibility, for the
pain of his wound and the loss of blood overpowered him, and for some
time he was unconscious. After two hours' riding, the troop was halted.
Walter felt the rope taken off him. Then he was lifted down, dragged a
short distance, and thrown down on some straw. Then a door shut, and he
heard a key turned. He felt sure that he was alone, but for some time lay
perfectly quiet, as it was possible that one of the men might have
remained to watch him.
After a quarter of an hour, hearing not the slightest sound, he opened
his eyes and looked round. He was, as he supposed, alone. The place in
which he was lying was a stable, lighted only by a small opening high up
in the wall. Certain, therefore, that he was not overlooked, he made an
effort to rise to his feet, but he was so weak and giddy that he was
obliged, for some time, to remain leaning against the wall. Seeing a
bucket in one corner, he made to it, and found, to his delight, that it
was half full of water, for he was parched with a devouring thirst.
After taking a deep draught he felt greatly revived, and then made a
thorough survey of his prison. It evidently formed part of the house of a
well-to-do man, for it was solidly built of stone, and the door was
strong and well fitted.
The opening in the wall was out of his reach. He could, at ordinary
times, by standing on the upturned bucket, have reached it with a spring,
and pulled himself up to it, but at present he was wholly incapable of
such exertion. He thought, however, that after a night's rest he would be
able to do it.
The door was so strong that he had no hope of escape in that direction.
As he might at any moment be disturbed, he returned to the straw on which
he had at first been thrown, laid himself down, and in a very short time
dropped off to sleep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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