"Well, if you say so, here goes. The surgeon was worried, and said he couldn't do nothing,—hadn't got his instruments, and so on. 'Yes, you have. Out with em,' says Tom, rapping on a case he sees in the chap's breast-pocket. 'Can't do it without bandages,' he says next. 'Here they are, and more where they came from,' says Tom; and off came his shirt-sleeves, and was stripped up in a jiffy. 'I must have help,' says that confounded surgeon, dawdling round, and me groaning my life out at his feet. 'Here's help,—lots of it,' says Tom, taking my head on his arm; while Parkes tied up his wounded face and stood ready to lend a hand. Seeing no way out of it, the surgeon went to work. Good Lord, but that was awful!"
The mere memory of it made the speaker shut his eyes with a shiver, as if he felt again the sharp agony of shattered bones, rent flesh, and pitiless knife.
"Never mind that. Tell how you got comfortable again," said Milly, shaking her head at Rose.
"I wasn't comfortable for three months, ma'am. Don't mind telling about it, 'cause Tom done so well, and I'm proud of him," said the rower, with kindling eyes. "Things of that sort are hard enough done well, with chloroform and every thing handy. But laying on the bare ground, with nothing right, and a scared boy of a surgeon hacking away at you, it's torment and no mistake. I never could have stood it, if it hadn't been for Tom. He held me close and as steady as a rock; but he cried like a baby the whole time, and that did me good. Don't know why; but it did. As for Parkes, he gave out at once and went off for help. I'll never forget that place, if I live to be a hundred. Seems as if I could see the very grass I tore up; the muddy brook they laid me by; the steep bank, with Parkes creeping up; Tom's face, wet and white, but so full of pity; the surgeon, with his red hands; and all the while such a roar of guns I could hardly hear myself groaning for some one to shoot me and put me out of my misery."
"How did you get to the hospital?" asked Uncle Ben, anxious to get over this part of the story, for Rose was now as pale as if she actually saw the scene described.
"Don't know, sir. There come a time when I couldn't bear any more, and what happened then I've never been very clear about. I didn't know much for a day or two; then I was brought round by being put in a transport. I was packed with a lot of poor fellows, and was beginning to wish I'd stayed queer, till I heard Tom's voice saying, 'Never mind, boys; put me down anywheres, and tend to the others. I can wait.' That set me up. I sung out, and they stowed him alongside. It was so dark down there I could hardly see his face; but his voice and ways were just as hearty and comforting as ever, and he kept up my spirits wonderful that day. I was pretty weak, and kept dozing off; but whenever I woke I felt for Tom, and he was always there. He told me, when Parkes came with help, he saw me off, and then went back for another go at the Rebs; but got a ball in the breast, and was in rather a bad way, he guessed. He couldn't lay down; but sat by me, leaning back, with his hand on my pillow, where I could find it easy. He talked to me all he could, till his voice give out; for he got very weak, and there was a dreadful groaning all around us."
"I know, I know. I went aboard one of those transports to help; but couldn't stay, it was so terrible," said Uncle Ben, with a groan at the mere memory of it.
"That was a long day, and I thought it was my last; for when night came I felt so gone I reckoned I was 'most over Jordan. I gave my watch to Tom as a keepsake, and told him to say good-by to the boys for me. I hadn't any folks of my own, so it wasn't hard to go. Tom had a sweetheart, an old mother, and lots of friends; but he didn't repine a word,—only said: 'If you do pull through, Joel, just tell mother I done my best, and give Hetty my love.' I promised, and dropped asleep, holding on to Tom as if he was my sheet-anchor. So he was; but I can't tell all he done for me in different ways."
For a minute Joel rowed in silence, and no one asked a question. Then he pushed up his old hat again, and went on, as if anxious to be done.
"Soon's ever I woke, next morning, I looked round to thank Tom, for his blanket was over me. He was sitting as I left him, his hand on my pillow, his face toward me, so quiet and happy-looking I couldn't believe he was gone. But he was, and I have had no mate since."