“How long do you keep guard here?” inquired the Mexican, with an abstracted air.
“I am under orders to strike tents and march—exactly at noon.”
“To Jalapa, I presume?”
“To Jalapa.”
“In that case this young fellow must be carried back to the village of El Plan. A body of your troops will likely remain there for some time?”
“I believe that is the intention of our commander-in-chief.”
“Then the invalid would be safer there. It will do him no harm, if taken upon a stretcher. I must lend him half-a-dozen of my assistants, or pick up some stragglers to perform this service.”
“He would be safer in Jalapa?” I suggested, interrogatively. “Besides, the climate of Jalapa is much more favourable to the healing of wounds—is it not?”
“That is true,” answered the man of science; “but Jalapa is distant. We have not a single ambulance in our army. Who is to carry him there—a poor soldier?”
“A fine young fellow, notwithstanding. My men would not mind the trouble of taking him, if you think—”