He was excited when he uttered this taunt, and he was sorry for it afterwards. Seeing the craven slink away, conscious of the scorn of every body, he felt a touch of pity for him.
"Jack," said he, with friendly intent, "why don't you go back and wipe out this disgrace? I would."
"Because," snarled Jack, goaded by his own shame and the general contempt, "I'm hurt, I tell ye! internally, I s'pose,"—for he had heard Mr. Sinjin use the word, and thought it a good one to suit his case. And he lay down wretchedly by the roadside, and counterfeited anguish, while the fresh troops marched by to the battle.
A fiery impulse seized the drummer boy. He glanced at his torn sleeve, from which the badge had been shot away, and thought there was something besides accident in what appeared so much like an omen. If it meant any thing, was it not that his place was elsewhere than in the ambulance corps?
He turned to Mr. Sinjin, and asked to be excused from going with the stretcher. And Mr. Sinjin, who prized the boy's safety too highly to wish to see him go again under fire, was only too glad to excuse him, never once suspecting what wild purpose was in his heart.
The battle was now fairly begun. The rebel battery had opened. The continual rattle of musketry and the thunder of heavy cannon shook the island. The regiments in line in front of the cleared space before the battery, returned the fire with energy, and the marine howitzers also responded. Soon a shell from the enemy's work came flying through the woods with a hum, which increased to a howl, and burst with a startling explosion within a few rods of the hospital. Nobody was hurt; but the incident had a very marked effect on Jack Winch. He got better at once, and moved to the rear with an alacrity surprisingly in contrast with his recent helplessness.
HOW FRANK GOT NEWS OF HIS BROTHER.
Frank was already moving off quite as rapidly, but in the opposite direction. He plunged once more into the swamp, and returned to the spot where Jack had fallen. The battle was raging beyond; the troops had passed on; the ground was deserted. But there lay Winch's gun; with his cartridge-box beside it. Near by was Ellis's piece, abandoned where it had fallen. There, too, lay the red badge which had been shot from Frank's arm. He picked it up, thinking his mother would like to have him preserve it.
Then he slipped on the cartridge-box, and took up Winch's gun; for this was the resolution which inspired him—to assume the poltroon's place in the company, and by his own conduct to atone for the disgrace he had brought upon it.