“Something horrible to see a man of your birth and education—a gentleman—flogged.”
“Hold your tongue!” roared the man fiercely, and the sentry unlocked the door quickly and threw it open.
“Shut that door,” said Dick quietly to the sentry; “there is nothing the matter.”
The man obeyed, and the occupants of the cell stood facing each other for some moments, the prisoner breathing hard, and the visitor struggling hard mentally to acquit himself of what was a very difficult task.
“That will do, my lad,” said Hanson at last. “You mean well; you’ve always behaved well to me, but you are doing no good. You don’t know, and you couldn’t understand. I suppose you have been sent.”
“No; I obtained leave to see you, and I have come just as I would to see any man of the troop who had been hurt.”
“Ah, you’re young,” said the man hoarsely.
“So are you, Hanson,” said Dick quickly. “You can’t be above six or seven and twenty.”
“Ha, ha!” laughed the prisoner; “why, I feel seventy, and want to get to the end of the miserable business. I’ve tried times enough to get killed.”
“Yes! We heard how brave you are in action.”