“In pain and alone, among foreigners and enemies!” I exclaimed. “How very miserable you must have been!”
“Not so much then as afterwards, Miss Lucy. You, who live in peace and quietness at home, can have no idea of the excitement of spirits there is in battle. One’s heart is so full of courage, one’s mind burns so with indignation at being made prisoner, and one has so much to think about, that there is no time to be truly miserable. I felt no pain from my wound at that time. I did not even know that I was wounded, till I found I could not raise my arm.”
“Is that possible?”
“Very true, my dear, I assure you. I was hurried away, I scarcely know how, to one of the baggage-waggons, with many of the wounded besides: but they were all French; not one friendly face did I see. We were laid, one close upon another, on straw, and jolted away, over bad roads to a town where an hospital was established. Some of my companions were in dreadful pain, and their groans made me sick at heart. I now began to suffer much; but I wished above all things not to be spoken to; so I remained as quiet as if I were dead, and closed my eyes. If I could have shut my ears also, I should have escaped many a horrible dream which has startled me since. Many a night, even now, I hear those groans and oaths; and the tortured countenances I used to see often in a battle rise up before me.—Before daybreak we reached the hospital; and I was really glad of it, though I knew well enough what was before me.”
“Did you feel sure that you must lose your arm?”
“Yes, master; I felt and saw that it was past cure.”
“And were[were] you much afraid about it?”
“I had thought so much and so often about the chances of such an accident, that I was not taken by surprise; and I was already in so much pain that I was very willing to suffer more for the sake of being rid of it. I sat beside a fire, while one after another of my companions was taken to the surgeons. At last, after waiting an hour and a half, they were going to carry away the man who lay next beside me; but he was a coward, it seemed, and begged to be left. They had no time to waste, and so laid hold of me, and were going to carry me; but I soon showed them that I had the use of my legs at least, and walked as stoutly as any of them to where the surgeons were. They made quick work of it, and scarcely made a show of asking my leave.”
“But I suppose you would have given them leave?”
“I took care to do that. I held out my arm as soon as ever I saw the instruments.”