"Oh, I'm well enough! Do you know how it has gone with Harry?"
"Dead," replied the Colonel.
George's eyelids flickered; under the dirt and the blood his face whitened. "Thanks. That's all I wanted to know. You saw him?"
"Hours ago. He was dying then, in one of Maitland's squares. He sent you his love."
George saluted, wheeled his horse, and rode back to his squadron.
The Colonel pushed on to the chaussee. His horse slithered clumsily down the bank on to it; he held it together, and rode across the pave to the opposite bank and scrambled up, emerging upon the desolation of the slope behind Picton's division. He urged the trooper to a ponderous gallop towards the rear of Best's brigade. A handful of Dutch-Belgians were formed in second line; he supposed them to be some of Count Bylandt's men, but paid little heed to them, wheeling round their right flank, and plunging once more into the region of shot and shell bursts.
He neither saw nor heard the shell that struck him. His horse came crashing down; he was conscious of having been hit; blood was streaming down his left arm, which lay useless on the ground beside him, but there was as yet no feeling in the shattered elbow-joint. His left side hurt him a little; he moved his right hand to it, and found his coat torn, and his shirt sticky with blood. He supposed vaguely that since he seemed to be alive this must be only a flesh wound. He desired nothing better than to lie where he had fallen, but he mastered himself, for he had a message to deliver, and struggled to his knees.
The sound of horse's hooves galloping towards him made him lift his head. An adjutant in the blue uniform and orange facings of the 5th National Militia dismounted beside him, and said in English: "Adjutant to Count Bylandt, sir! I'm directed by General Perponcher to - Parbleu! it is you, then!"
Colonel Audley looked up into a handsome, dark face bent over him, and said weakly: "Hallo, Lavisse! Get me a horse, there's a good fellow!"
"A horse!" exclaimed Lavisse, going down on one knee, and supporting the Colonel in his arms. "You need a surgeon, my friend! Be tranquil: my General sends to bear you off the field." He gave a bitter laugh, and added: "That is what my brigade exists for - to succour you English wounded!"