Nothing seemed desirable save a speedy death.

At times the fair image of his home rose before his memory--but it vanished as soon as he recalled the burgomaster's dignified figure, his own miserable weakness and the repulse he had experienced.

He was full of fierce indignation against himself, and longed with passionate impatience for the clash of swords and roar of cannon, the savage struggle man to man.
Time passed without his perceiving it, but a torturing desire for food began to torment the starving man.

There were plenty of turnips piled against the wall, and he eat one after another, until he experienced the feeling of satiety he had so long lacked.

Then he sat down on a kneading-trough and considered how he could best get to the Beggars.