Peter remained on his feet, a bush in front of him being sufficiently high to conceal him altogether. There was a roar of voices as the "reds" came along. They could hardly be said to be singing, but each was howling or yelling the Carmagnole. They were not so drunk as Peter had hoped they would be, the six-mile walk from the château having enabled them to partially shake off the effects of the wine they had imbibed; and indeed, their leaders had broken up the casks and spilled all the liquor two hours before the start was made. Many of them carried torches, while some had lanterns, for they had left Marseilles at midnight. They were a strange, wild-looking lot: all wore either red caps or cockades in their hats, their long hair hung down on to their shoulders, and the plunder they bore added to the savagery of their appearance. About a hundred passed along; then came some men with pikes. At their head walked one holding aloft the head of the baron, and six others followed him with those of the servants that had fallen.
Immediately behind these came twenty men with muskets marching in two lines, and between them were the baroness and her daughters. Though weak with grief and fatigue they walked along unaided, holding their heads erect, and without casting a look to the right or left. As the pikemen came along Peter passed the word, and the sailors crawled out through the bushes, any noise they made being deadened by the roar of the mob. Then Peter shouted "At them, lads," and in a moment the sailors were among the men with the muskets, the whole of whom were cut down before they had time to fire a shot. Then, according to the orders they had received, half turned each way; one party fell upon the pikemen with their ghastly burdens, the other on those following the men with muskets. Peter, followed closely by Jamieson and his four men, had sprung at once to the ladies' side.
"Thank God I have rescued you," he exclaimed. "But there is no time for talk now--keep with these men--we will cover your retreat. If you are unable to walk they have stretchers to carry you along."
They were clinging together bewildered by the sudden combat that had broken out around them.
"Robbins," Peter called to a sailor close by him, "do you join Jamieson's party, then there will be two to each stretcher. Directly you get off the road, put the ladies on to them, go off at a trot; you will take them along a great deal faster than they can walk."