“Silence!” cried Brace, but not angrily. “You must not thank me, my lads, but Mr Vincent and Sergeant Craig.”
I wanted to say, “Yes, Craig; let me fetch him;” but discipline forbade, and I knew that Brace would do him justice.
“Then three cheers for Sergeant Craig, if I lose my stripes for it,” shouted the corporal again, who was as intoxicated with excitement as if he had partaken of drink—the vile arrack that ruins so many of our men.
But Brace was lenient then.
“Yes,” he cried, “three cheers for Sergeant Craig,” and they were given with a will.
Then, to my great delight, he gave orders; four men reined back, and sprang from their horses, with the corporal, and went off at the double toward the wood, from where they soon reappeared, bearing the litter with poor Craig.
Brace rode forward to meet him, and leaned over the litter to shake hands, when a low murmur of satisfaction rose from the line, but I did not hear what he said, though I longed to ride up and thank him too. To my great delight, though, they brought him close up to me, and we exchanged a nod and smile.
“I thought that would do it, sir,” he said feebly.
“What do you say, doctor? Do you think we could safely take him on the ammunition-waggon?”
“So long as you don’t blow it up,” said the doctor, shortly. “You think you could sit up now?”