I'd come if it was half a hour 'fore I was going to die.

I did try to burn 'em where they were drinking together, on'y I was in too great a hurry.

I ought to ha' waited till they was asleep." Mark shuddered slightly, but he said no more, and proceeded to examine the men, all of whom, to the number of seven, declared themselves fit to come.
But, including Nick, there were only five really fit to bear arms; the rest had unwillingly to give up.

Still, there were three quite uninjured, and these would, Mark felt, be a valuable addition to the little force at home, for they were burning to try and do something to help Sir Morton in his terrible strait; and even the women wished to join.

But this was declared impossible, and soon after, feeling the strangeness of his position, Mark was riding back with his recruits.
Five minutes later, he cried, "Halt!" and sprang from his pony.
"Here, Garth," he cried, "I can't ride and see you limp along with that wounded leg." "Can't help my leg being hurt, young sir," cried the man sourly.