The rapidly increasing light, too, showed something more, for about a couple of hundred yards from the outworks, a horse, saddled and bridled, lay upon its side, quite dead; for the terrible stroke the miller’s man had delivered with his pickaxe had struck into the horse’s spine.
Chapter Twenty Five.
Lady Royland turns Nurse.
Roy was face to face with the first of the stern realities of war, as he hurried into the long chamber beneath the eastern rampart, which Lady Royland had set apart for the use of any of the men who might, she said, “turn ill.”
Poor Sam Donny had fainted away before he reached the hospital-room, and upon Roy entering, eager to render assistance, it was to find himself forestalled by Lady Royland, who, with the old housekeeper, attended to the wounded man.
Lady Royland hurried to her son, as he appeared at the door.
“No,” she said, firmly, “not now: leave this to us. It is our duty.”
“But, mother, do you understand?” protested Roy.