Drawing one he shot the man who was closing the gate, and before his comrades could run up he dashed through it and over the drawbridge.
Several bullets whizzed around him, but he was soon out of range, and galloping at full speed in the direction in which the steward had told him that Duke Bernhard was encamped.

In half an hour he reached the Swedish lines, and rode at once to the tent of the duke who was upon the point of mounting; beside him stood a man in the livery of Wallenstein.
As he rode up Malcolm drew his pistol, and said to the man: "If you move a foot I will send a bullet through your head." "What is this ?" exclaimed the duke in astonishment, "and who are you, sir, who with such scant courtesy ride into my camp ?" Malcolm raised his vizor.

"I am Captain Graheme of Munro's regiment," he said, "and I have ridden here to warn your excellency of treachery.
Wallenstein has been foully murdered.

Egra is in the hands of the Imperialists, the Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg has been beguiled into a trap and taken prisoner, and this fellow, who is one of Butler's troopers, has been sent here to lead you into a like snare." "Wallenstein murdered!" the duke exclaimed in tones of horror.
"Murdered, say you?
Impossible!" "It is but too true, sir," Malcolm replied; "I myself saw his friends Illo, Terzky, and Kinsky assassinated before my eyes at a banquet.
Wallenstein was murdered by his favourites Leslie and Gordon and the Irishman Butler.

I was seized and thrown into a dungeon, but have escaped by a miracle to warn you of your danger." "This is a blow indeed," the duke said mournfully.