“If one cut, and cut deep enough, the leg could be saved, sire,” he said boldly.
Karl looked at him straightly; it was one brave man facing another; the great King and the great surgeon met on the common ground of fortitude and daring.
“Do your work then at once, M. Neumann,” said Karl. “Cut deeply and fear nothing.”
M. Neumann bowed, and directed his assistant to bring him his case of instruments.
Karl asked for another glass of water, and leaning back, drank it slowly.
Several other officers had now entered the tent including Poniatowski, the commander of King Stanislaus’ Swedish guards, who had followed Karl into the Ukraine out of affection for his person.
Karl showed some pleasure at his arrival, and held out his hand.
“Any news?” he asked.
“Nay, sire, the last scouts sent out have not returned.”
“To-morrow we will attack again,” replied Karl. “We must,” he added, with an unusual earnestness in his tone, “take Poltava.”