“Come in quickly,” cried a voice from behind; and a small portion of the door was opened to admit them. “The soldiers are retiring, and will kill all before them.”
“Let me aid you; it is my turn now,” said Lady Dorothea, assisting Kate to rise. “Good Heavens! her arm is broken,—it is smashed in two.” And she caught the fainting girl in her arms.
Gathering around, they bore her within the gate, and had but time to bar and bolt it when the hurried tramp without, and the wild yell of popular triumph, told that the soldiers were retreating, beaten and defeated.
“And this to save me!” said Lady Dorothea, as she stooped over her. And the scalding tears dropped one by one on Kate's cheek.
“Tear this handkerchief, and bind it around my arm,” said Kate, calmly; “the pain is not very great, and there will be no bleeding, the doctors say, from a gun-shot wound.”
“I'll be the surgeon,” said the Captain, addressing himself to the task with more of skill than might be expected. “I 've seen many a fellow struck down who did n't bear it as calmly,” muttered he, as he bent over her. “Am I giving you any pain?”
“Not in the least; and if I were in torture, that glorious cheer outside would rally me. Hear!—listen!—the soldiers are in full retreat; the people, the noble-hearted people, are the conquerors!”
“Be calm, and think of yourself,” said Lady Dorothea, mildly, to her; “such excitement may peril your very life.”
“And it is worth a thousand lives to taste of it,” said she, while her cheek flushed, and her dark eyes gleamed with added lustre.
“The street is clear now,” said one of the servants to Martin, “and we might reach the Boulevard with ease.”