"Yes, sir. And--and--how is he now?"
Rademacher looked hesitatingly down at the mortally wounded man, and answered evasively: "Well--we must wait and see."
Once more he listened to the breathing, then stood up. According to his diagnosis the injured man had but a few hours to live, at the most--perhaps even only minutes.
"Has he recovered consciousness at all?" he asked.
"Yes, sir; but only for a very short time."
The doctor shrugged his shoulders.
"But what's wrong with you?" he said, turning to the bombardier.
"My leg's rather queer, sir. Old Turk fell on it, and it's sprained, I suppose. But I expect you can soon put it right, sir."
Rademacher removed the driver's riding-trousers with the aid of the hospital-orderly.
His examination was soon over.