"He is coming round, doctor;" said the lady.
Then to him she said;—"you must be very quiet. Your shoulder has been set. It is all right now. Heaven be praised that we did not kill you as we fell!" she added aside, and her sweet motherly face showed the sympathy he was in need of.
Then a voice at the door said timidly, yet eagerly,—"Mamma, come—Charlie wants you."
The ladies vanished, leaving the doctor in charge.
Hervey soon gathered that they were at a farm-house near Columbus, Ohio; that Charlie had a broken leg, that his mother and sister, along with the others who had escaped injury, were stopping over to render service to the wounded.
"Who are they?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of his pain.
"I think the name is Raynor," said the doctor; "Mrs. Raynor, Miss Eloise, and the youth, whose leg we set this morning. But say, young man, where are your people? Don't you want some telegrams sent? You are not likely to get away from here very soon."
Young Leslie groaned as he gave his father's address at Cincinnati, then exclamed;—"See here, doctor, can't you stop this confounded pain? What the deuce is the matter, anyway? Do get me out of this."
The doctor gave him a soothing potion and bade him be quiet. He promised to send a nurse, then went to look after the more slightly injured patients.
Three weeks later found Hervey Leslie in dressing-gown and slippers, setting beside Miss Eloise Raynor under a large shade tree, the young lady reading aloud from Tennyson's tender rhymes. At an open window in full view lay Charlie, still a prisoner, with his mother in close attendance.