A staff-officer who happened to have some brandy in his flask trotted up and gave the bottle to Will. The spirit rather revived him, and some of his companions helped him up in front of Jack, and they managed to get back to camp. Here Jack got Will to their tent, wrapped him up in both their blankets, which were fortunately dry; and, getting some charcoal from a man in the artillery, lit a fire.
All that night Jack sat up by his friend, soothing him, rubbing him, and wiping the damp perspiration from his brow, while he heaped everything in the tent on him to keep him warm. It was a fight for poor Will between death and Jack; but morning broke and found Will still alive, though insensible.
Barrymore came in and brought a doctor. He looked at Will, shook his head, and said,’Poor fellow! he might pull through if he had medical comforts and good nursing; but here, I’m afraid, he’s booked;’ and he shrugged his shoulders.
‘He sha’n’t die if I can help it,’ said Jack doggedly.—‘Barrymore, you must get me excused from duty. I’ll nurse Will, and if mortal man can save him I will.’
The doctor looked admiringly at the young sergeant. ‘My poor fellow,’ he said,’you’ll only kill yourself.’
‘Then I accept my fate.’
The doctor went off; but in half-an-hour an orderly returned from him, bringing some soup, medicine, and a few instructions.
All day Jack stuck to his task, and at night Barrymore helped him. In the morning the kind-hearted doctor again came in.
‘He’s got a splendid constitution,’ he said, ‘and youth is on his side, or he would have been dead long since. He must be got away from here anyway. There’s a convoy of sick going down to Balaclava to-day for Scutari. I’ll send round a litter for him.’
Will was conscious and heard these words, and when they were alone he said feebly, ‘Jack, old man, the best chum a fellow ever had, don’t send me to Scutari; we’ve heard of the horrors of that place. Let me die here. It makes little difference how or when we go, the few of us who are left.’