The enemy had been driven off with heavy loss, but the little victory
had been dearly-won. Several men had been wounded, and most serious to
all seemed to be the fact that among them was the gallant young officer
who was liked by every man in the regiment. So it was that the march
back to the great fort was made in silence; and when a few of the enemy,
encouraged by what they looked upon as a retreat, hung about the rear
and harassed the retiring column with shots from the heights, they paid
dearly for being so venturesome. For Captain Roberts, leaving a little
party in hiding to wait till the enemy showed in their pursuit, listened
with a grim smile upon his lip till there was a sudden outburst of
firing, and then tramped on with the remainder of his company, keeping
as much as he could by the mule ambulance which was bearing his friend
back to the fort.
Within half-an-hour the little firing-party overtook the rear of the
column, and Roberts halted till they came up to him.
"Well, Sergeant?" he said.
"All right now, sir," said Gee, who looked what the men called ugly. "I
think we've brought 'em all down."
"You're not sure, of course?"
"Well, pretty nigh, sir. There ain't been a shot since."
"Good. Be on the lookout. I hate for our poor fellows to be harassed
like this."
"It's horrid, sir; but, begging your pardon, sir, how's Mr Bracy?"
"Bad, Gee, bad. I'm afraid he is shot through the lungs."
Sergeant Gee's brow went into a mass of puckers and frowns, and there
was the peculiar sound of one grinding his teeth together, as the man
tramped on behind his officer for a few minutes before speaking again.
"Beg pardon, sir; there's that Bill Gedge. Is he much hurt?"
"Very gravely, I'm afraid. Dr Morton can't tell yet from the hasty
examination he made, but he shook his head."
"Poor lad!" said the Sergeant. "We were always bad friends, sir; he was
so full of his Cockney monkey-tricks, and he hated me, but we couldn't
spare him. What a soldier he would have made!"
"Hah!" ejaculated Roberts; "as full of pluck as a lad could be. Mr
Bracy's been telling me how he carried him through the fire, and
sheltered him with his own body. That's how it was he had his wound."
There was another pause, with the silence only broken by the echoing
tramp, tramp of the men.
"Won't die--will he, sir?" whispered Sergeant Gee.
"I pray Heaven no," said the Captain.
"That sounds bad, sir," said the Sergeant huskily. "I should like to
shake hands with him afore he goes; and if he gets better I won't be so
hard on him again."
"I suppose you have only done your duty by him."
"I hope so, sir."
"Double on to the ambulance, and see how he is. Corporal Green, take
the Sergeant's place."
Roberts halted to let his men pass him, keenly watching every one in his
company, and a man limping caught his eye.
"Here, Bracy, what's the matter?" he said.
"Oh, nothing much, sir. Spent shot glanced off the rock and hit me in
the ankle."
"Give him your arm, Sergeant, and get him on one of the mules."
"Beg pardon, sir; I can walk back."
"You're making your leg worse at every step, sir," cried Roberts
angrily. "Get on and ride."
The words were spoken sharply, the young Captain being in no very
amiable mood, for he was cooling down after tremendous exertion and the
reaction from the wild excitement of the fight. But he spoke in the
man's interest and with the desire to save him from after-suffering.
Then the weary tramp went on almost in silence, but no one flagged, and
at the end of a couple of hours they obtained a glimpse of the flag at
the top of the staff. The silence in the column was broken by a hearty
cheer, the men's spirits rising again after what had been a depressing
march back; and when the gates were reached they were cheered by the men
on the walls, and the hills around softly echoed back the replies to the
hearty welcome they had received.
The Colonel, with the officers left behind, stood at the gate waiting,
and the answer to his inquiry regarding the enemy brought forth a fresh
cheer.
"Splendidly done!" said the Colonel; and then sharply, "What
casualties?"
"Mr Bracy severely wounded. Privates Down and Gedge had bullet-wounds.
Other hurts slight."
The Doctor hurried away to his operating-room, and his assistants went
to the door to help in the three patients, who were attended to in turn.
The first man who had fallen had to have a bullet extracted from his
leg, half-way to the hip, where it was deeply embedded in the muscle.
"Now, my dear Bracy," said the Doctor, "let's look at you."
"No, I can wait," was the reply. "My bandages is quite firm, and the
bleeding has ceased."
The Doctor frowned, and was about to say something regarding
interference; but he checked himself, glanced at the bandage, and
nodded.
"Very well," he said; "the other man."
Poor Gedge was very white and remarkably quiet, but his eyes were full
of motion; and he watched the Doctor's face and every action of his
hands.
"Why, Gedge, my lad," said the Doctor cheerily after a certain amount of
busy manipulation, "this isn't fair. I didn't want to have you in
hospital again."
"Same to you, sir," said the sufferer, with a ghastly attempt at a
smile, as he screwed his head round to look at the Doctor.
"Hold still, sir. Look the other way."
"Yes, sir," said Gedge faintly. "'Tain't my head this time, sir."
"No, my lad; it's not your head this time."
"Sorry it's my back, sir; but I warn't a-running away."
"Bah! of course you were not; our lads don't know how."
"No, sir; course not, sir."
"Got it carrying Mr Bracy out of the fire--eh?"
"Well, yes, sir, I s'pose so, sir. Shall I--shall I--"
The poor fellow stopped short.
"Shall you what?" said the Doctor kindly; "try to move?"
"No, sir," said the poor fellow feebly; "I didn't mean that. It was,
shall I be a goner?"
"Oh, nonsense--nonsense! Humph! poor fellow! he has fainted."
"Is his wound serious, Doctor?" said Bracy huskily.
"Never you mind. You lie still and wait. Well, there. Yes, the hurt
is a very bad one. I don't think he'll die; but the bullet is in a
dangerous place, and I dare not try to extract it to-day."
A short time after poor Gedge was lying in a state of stupor upon the
bed he had previously occupied, and the Doctor was examining the young
officer's wounds.
"Very bad, Doctor?" asked Bracy.
"Bad enough, sir. I don't like this exit so close to the vertebrae.--
That hurt?"
"No; it feels dull and cold just there."
"Raise that hand a little."
"Can't, Doctor; I'm so tightly bandaged."
"Humph! Yes, you are pretty well tied up. That poor fellow Gedge did
wonderfully well for you, considering. He attended to his ambulance
lessons. First help's a grand thing when a man's bleeding to death."
"Was I bleeding to death?" said Bracy rather faintly.
"Of course you were; or perhaps not. The bleeding might have stopped of
itself, but I shouldn't have liked to trust it. There; shan't do any
more to you to-day. We'll have you to bed and asleep. That's the first
step towards getting well again. Sorry to have you down so soon, Bracy,
my dear boy. There, keep a good heart, and I'll soon get you right
again."
The Colonel was at the hospital door soon after, along with Major
Graham, both anxious to hear about Bracy's hurt.
"Bad," said the Doctor shortly as he put on his coat. "Don't ask to see
the poor boy; he's just dropping off to sleep."
"Bad?" said the Colonel anxiously.
"Yes, bad, sir. A young fellow can't have a hole drilled right through
him by a piece of ragged iron without being in a very serious
condition."
"But the wound is not fatal?"
"H'm! no, not fatal. He's young, strong, and healthy; but the exit of
the missile was in close proximity to the spine, and there's no knowing
what mischief may have been done."
"What do you mean?" said the Colonel anxiously.
"Injury to the nerve centre there. I can't say. Possibly nothing may
follow, but I am obliged to say the wound is bad, and there is danger of
his being crippled--permanently injured in a way which would render him
unfit for service."
"But look here," said the Major excitedly, "you have a bad habit of
making the worst of things, Morton. Come, explain yourself. Are there
any symptoms suggestive of what you hint at?"
"My dear Graham, I never come and interfere with your work; don't you
meddle with mine."
"I don't want to, sir," said the Major tartly. "I only want for the
Colonel and yours obediently not to be left in the dark."
"Graham is quite right," said the Colonel gravely. "We should like to
know a little more."
"Very good," said the Doctor, "but I can only say this: there is a
peculiar absence of sensation in the lower extremities, and especially
in the poor fellow's left arm. This may be temporary, and due to the
terrible shock of the wound; but it also may be consequent upon injury
to the nerves in connection with the spine. I can say no more. Time
only will show."
The two officers left the hospital-room, looking terribly depressed.
"Poor lad! poor lad!" the Major kept on saying. "Such a brave,
unassuming fellow. It's wonderful how little we realise how we like our
fellow-men, Colonel, till they are badly hurt. Hah! I am sorry--more
sorry than I can express."
The Colonel said nothing, but turned and held out his hand, which the
Major took and pressed warmly.
"Thank you, Graves," he said, taking out a showy silk handkerchief and
blowing his nose very hard, making it give forth sounds like those made
by a boy beginning to learn the bugle. "Hah!" he said; "one never
knows. Here to-day and gone to-morrow, Graves. May be our turn next."
"Yes," said the Colonel quietly: "but if it is in the way of duty, I
don't see that we need mind."
"Humph! Well, I don't know about that. I should like to live to a
hundred, if only for the sake of finding out what it feels like. Some
people do."
"Yes," said the Colonel, smiling; "and over a hundred; but then they
die."
"Yes, of course; but from old ago."
"And other things too, as the old epitaph says."
"What old epitaph?"
"On the venerable lady. The lines run something like this:--
"She lived strong and well to a hundred and ten,
And died by a fall from a cherry-tree then."
"Bah! don't talk about dying, Graves. Poor Bracy! Oh, the Doctor must
set him all right again. But this sort of thing does make one feel a
bit serious."
"It is very, very sad," said the Colonel.
"Yes, very. By the way, though, have you noticed how splendidly our
lads are behaving?"
"Magnificently, for such mere boys," said the Colonel meaningly.
"For such mere boys?" said the Major sharply. "I never saw men in any
regiment behave better. Why, sir, it was magnificent to-day. I didn't
say anything to Roberts about it, because I don't want the lads to hear
and get puffed up by pride. But, really, sir, I'm very proud of our
regiment."
"And so am I. But you have changed your ideas a little."
"Bah! Pooh! Nonsense! Don't jump on a man because he spoke out a bit.
You'll grant yourself that they are a very boyish-looking lot."
"Yes; but I do not judge them by appearances. I look at their
discipline and acts."
"So do I," said the Major, "and I recant all I said about them before.
There, sir, will that satisfy you?"
"Quite, Graham," said the Colonel. "There, we must be hopeful. I
couldn't bear for poor Bracy to become a wreck."