“Not even scratched, Doctor, but the great moment is near, and I was obliged to see my boy once more. I dare not send you both away, for it would only be into the hands of the enemy—perhaps amongst their savage camp followers. You have given up practising for years, but you are a certificated physician and surgeon, and the doctors here will receive you and my boy, glad of your help. While if matters go wrong with the General in a desperate venture, you will be where the wounded are being collected, and the French will respect you.”
“Yes,” said the Doctor. “Then you wish me to join the field hospital—when?”
“As soon as I am gone. You understand?”
“Yes. You may trust me.”
“I know that. Heaven protect you both. Now I can feel at rest. Phil!”
The boy dashed back, to spring upon his knee.
“Now, quick, my boy,” cried the Major, kissing him. “Say good-bye like a soldier’s son.”
“Yes, father; but when—”
“Phil!”
“I know, father,” cried the boy, hastily drawing himself up. “Good-bye. So glad to see you back.”