"Tim," he answered, in an awed voice, "it was the sight of those children!"
"The childer, ye say! Thim w'ot's forinst us?"
"Yes. They did it! God, but they were a terrible sight to see—it sort of made me crazy!"
"'Tis a Christian kind av insanity, lad," the sergeant mused. "I hope ye'll be havin' a domn fine lot av it!"
Thus, when the low-lying moon flooded the dressing-station quadrangle, Jeb, with fourteen prisoners, nine wounded comrades and three little citizens from the "empire of death," was challenged by lookouts of a new regiment that had arrived during the night to occupy the old front line trench. The next minute cheers were ringing from a thousand throats.
Crossing the narrow bridge Tim, though weak from pain, yelled:
"Sind a squad after us, lads, an' ye can have our mules whin they're unloaded!"
Dr. Bonsecours had turned with a sigh of relief from the last of his cases and stepped outside for a breath of air, when the sound of cheering reached him.
"There is some good news," he called to Marian, who came and stood nearby, listening. Yet, even at that moment, his thoughts were of her, and he turned, saying gently: "You must rest; I really insist upon it! If you don't, I—I shall break down, myself."