"Colonel Mason says, from the despatches, that he would not anticipate serious trouble from one of them by itself—but from the whole combined, particularly with midsummer heat, there might be. Still, without doubt, all will be done for him that is possible."
"Where are they keeping him, father?"
"In a cottage near the battlefield, on the Niagara River. If they can hold the place they will retain the settlers' houses for the use of the wounded until they are well enough to be removed."
"Who nurses the men, I wonder?" was Maud's next question.
"There won't be much nursing," replied the judge. "The men will do what they can to carry out the doctors' orders, but the poor fellows will have a tough time of it no doubt. It is always the case in a military campaign, no matter where you go or who is injured."
"And can we do nothing?"
"Nothing whatever, my dear. It is beyond the pale of civilization, one might say. Throughout that region there are few settlements and no good roads. Supplies are taken in with great difficulty, and often have to be carried in on the backs of the soldiers. As for people here going over to help, by the time they got there, the whole place might be deserted."
"You are a Job's comforter, father."
"Father's quite right," said Eugenia. "But it is terrible to think of poor, brave Captain Morris suffering so frightfully. I wish those dastardly Yankees were in——."
"Not in Halifax," interrupted the judge with a smile. "We don't want them here even if we could whip them, which I am not so sure about. But you are on the wrong tack Genie. The Yankee soldiers are not dastardly. They are just as brave as ours are, and in that very battle lost as many men as we did."