“Dobbs,” he said sharply, “fall out and take charge of the horses.”
The lad stepped back, and as he did so a gleam of sunshine through the trees made his trumpet flash for a moment. The next he was standing by the beautiful animals which were impatiently champing their bits and pawing the ground.
Then Brace made Haynes a sign, and the men turned right face, and with Haynes at their head, filed off, the bearers falling in with their load, and the doctor looking undecided.
“Follow the wounded man, sir,” said Brace, and the doctor immediately took his place at the end of the little column, while we stood watching them till they had disappeared among the trees.
“We may succeed even now, Gil,” said my companion; “but once more, while there is time, speak out frankly to me as if I were your brother; the trumpeter cannot hear. Do you feel—well, to be plain—frightened?”
“I suppose so,” I said. “It’s a curious nervous sensation.”
“Then give up, and follow the men, and I’ll go alone.”
“You said I was to speak to you as if you were my brother,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Then I will speak,” I said through my teeth. “It is to my brother, and not to my commanding-officer. I won’t. I’ll go with you now if I die for it.”