They halted for the night in a small town where the soldiers were billeted on the inhabitants, comfortable apartments being assigned to Malcolm and his charge.
Soon after daybreak the journey was continued.

A sharp watch was now kept up, as at any moment parties of the Swedish cavalry making a raid far in advance of their lines might be met with.

No such adventure happened, and late in the afternoon the troop halted on the crest of a low hill.
"Here," the officer said, "we part.

That town which you see across the river is held by the Swedes, and you will certainly meet with no molestation from any of our side as you ride down to it." Malcolm thanked the officer for the courtesy he had shown him on the journey, and then rode forward towards the town.

It was getting dusk as he neared the bridge, but as he came close Malcolm's heart gave a bound as he recognized the green scarves and plumes worn by the sentries at the bridge.