"Not more than five minutes. Heavens, man, it was the maddest thing I ever heard of! Trevanion is in a bad way; whether he'll pull through or not, I don't know; but if he does, he'll owe his life to you. He was slowly bleeding to death, and of course your getting him here didn't help him. Still, he's in good hands."
"He's alive, then?"
"Oh, yes, he's alive, and I think he'll live; still, he'll have a bad time. Oh, yes, you can get up, if you want; you're all right. When did you have food last?"
"I don't think I remember," said Bob. "It must have been about midday,
I think."
"I thought so. Now drink this. Do you mind seeing the fellows?
That's right; here they come. Now, Pringle—oh, yes, and Colonel
Sapsworth too—no wonder you are proud of your subaltern; there are men
who've got the Victoria Cross for less."
Colonel Sapsworth caught Bob's hand and wrung it without a word.
Bob saw his lips tremble beneath his grey moustache, saw too that his eyes were filled with tears; but Colonel Sapsworth was a man who didn't talk much. "You're a plucky young devil," he said, "but I thought you had it in you. There, there, do you feel better now? By Jove, you're the talk of the whole division! Yes, Trevanion will do all right—at least, I hope so," and then the Colonel rubbed his eyes.
"That is enough," said Dr. Grey. "I'm chief in command here; he wants a few hours' rest, and then he'll be as right as ever. Meanwhile, let him alone; the young beggar has had a hard day."
CHAPTER XVIII
After the incidents I have just recorded, Bob had no longer reason to complain that he was kept out of the firing-line. Event after event followed quickly in what is now generally spoken of as "The Battle of the Rivers."