“Ah, I’ve got to bathe that head, sir.”
“Yes, I think that would do it good. Yes, I am better, Pete, for I can think. We are prisoners, aren’t we?”
“Yes, sir, at present,” said Pete confidently. “Just till we are exchanged, or escape.”
“Ah!” ejaculated Archie. “I said I could think now, and I was forgetting. Look here, have you found Miss Minnie?”
“Now, now, now, sir,” cried the young private in a tone full of remonstrance; “you have been very ill, and off your head. It’s very horrid, I know, but you have got to get better, and not make yourself worse with thinking about that.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” said Archie excitedly. “But you don’t tell me. Have you found out where she is?”
“No, sir; not yet. I couldn’t leave you.”
“Not leave me, man? You must get out of this place as soon as you can, and either find her or make your way to headquarters, and let the Doctor and Major Knowle—oh, and Sir Charles too—know what has happened.”
“Mister Archie, sir,” said the lad, laying a cool hand on his young officer’s burning brow, “don’t, sir—please, don’t! They must know all you want to say long enough ago, and before now they have got all our brave lads out searching the country; and you may lie still, sir, and think to yourself that nobody will rest until Miss Minnie is found.”
There was silence for a few minutes, during which Peter Pegg half lay beside his wounded officer, listening to words uttered in command that sounded familiar. They were evidently orders addressed to the elephant, which was shuffling by the great stable, making a whining sound as if protesting against being driven.