"Well, Clinton, don't be too sanguine. You know how terribly the Heavies suffered at Abu Klea. Don't make up your mind too warmly to see your brother; he may be among the wounded we left behind at Abu Klea; he may—" and he stopped.
"I won't think it," Rupert said; "it would be too hard, after our searching for him for all these years, to find out that but four or five days since he was in camp with us, and to learn it only too late. I won't think it."
"I hope to God that it is not so, Clinton, only I thought it best to prepare you for what may be possible. Which troop did he belong to?"
"The Dragoon troop."
Easton was silent, for it was upon this troop that the heaviest loss had fallen.
"Well," Rupert went on, "let us go down and learn the best or the worst."
They walked down the slope to the new fort by the river, and finding out where the Heavies were bivouacked soon discovered the Dragoons.
"You go and ask, Easton," Rupert said nervously; "I dare not."
Easton went on alone and presently accosted a sergeant.
"Sergeant, can you tell me whether the trumpeter of your troop was wounded at Abu Klea? Is he here now?"