“What is it?” responded both Dupin and Lopez.
“I, I mean the American Colonel. He–he––”
“Hello, Mike!” cried Driscoll.
He could not see for the others, nor move, but he recognized the voice of Michel Ney. He knew, too, that Michel must be the cavalry leader he had just shot. “Darn it, Mike!” he exclaimed, “I’m sorry! But weren’t there enough of ’em without you?”
“Monsieur Ney,” the Tiger interrupted, “let your men tend 235you here, and we will be back at once to see what can be done for your hurt. But just now––”
He signed to Lopez, and Cossacks and Dragoons caught up the prisoner and started for the door.
“Wait!” Ney moaned feebly.
“Tonnerre, mon prince, your wound must be paid for, first. Hurry there, Messieurs les Imbeciles!”
“Wait!” Ney gasped. He half raised himself, but sank back with closing eyes. He made a gesture to his breast. All halted as in the presence of death.
“Help him, you there!” cried Driscoll. “Open his coat!”