"It must have been a dreadful night to the poor Baroness and those little girls," remarked Lulu, who was listening with keenest interest.
"Yes, indeed," responded the lad; "the cries and groans of the wounded, the darkness, dampness, and filth and stench of the wounds, all taken together, must have made an awful night for them all. I wonder, for my part, that the women and children weren't left at home in their own countries."
"That's where they ought to have been, I think," said Lulu. "Was it that night Surgeon Jones was killed?"
"No, Miss, the next day, when the Americans began firing again harder than ever."
"Where were they firing from then?" Lulu asked.
"The other side of the river, Miss; probably from some rising ground a little north of Batten Kil."
"Well, sir, what more have you to show us?" asked the Captain, pleasantly.
"A plank cut and shattered at one end, probably by the ball that killed the Surgeon. This way, if you please; here it is. And here is a rafter which you see has been partly cut in two by a shell. It was taken out of the frame of the house while they were repairing in 1868. Here are some other bits of shot and shell that have been ploughed up on the farm at different times. Ah! there are some things at the house I should have shown you."
"We will not mind going back so short a distance," said the Captain, "and would be glad to see everything you have to show us."
"Yes, sir; and I think you will say these things are worth looking at."