At the same instant Captain Barker popped out, and with a quiet pass spitted him clean through the right lung.
"All together, you sons of dogs!" yelled the sergeant, who had dragged himself to a little distance, and was stanching the flow of blood from his wounded thigh.
Two of the soldiers heard the advice and came on together with a rush.

The first of them caught the full swing of Tristram's musket on the side of his stiff cap and went down like an ox.

The second took Captain Barker's sword through the left arm and dropped his bayonet.

But before either Tristram or the Captain could disengage his weapon the other three assailants were upon them, and the fight was over.
"Surrender!" cried one, holding his point against Tristram's chest.
"Must I ?" the latter inquired, turning to Captain Barker.
"H'm, there seems to be no choice." "And you also, sir." "Certainly.

Here is my sword; it belongs to your captain yonder, whom you may recognise by his uniform.