No answer--except some dismal groans.
"Are you much hurt?"
"I am just killed," he moaned. "Oh, ma'am! who is to help me?"
Who indeed! Mary Ursula had an innate dread of such calamities as this; she had a true woman's sensitive heart, shrinking terribly from the very thought of contact with these woes of life. "I do not know that I can help you, Walter," she said faintly. "Where are you hurt? Do you think you could get up?"
He began to try, and she helped him to his feet. One arm, the left, was powerless; and the young man said his left side was also. He leaned upon her, begging pardon for the liberty, and looked about him in dismay.
"Where does this here passage lead to, ma'am?"
"To the Grey Nunnery. Could you manage to walk to it?"
"I must get somewhere, lady, where I can be aided. I feel the blood a-dripping down me. If the bullet is not inside of me, it must have bedded itself in the wall."
The blood came from the arm. Beginning to feel faint again, feeling also very much as though she had been the cause of this, perhaps had cost the young man his life, Mary Ursula bound up the arm as well as she could, with her hankerchief and with his.
"Will you go on with me to the Nunnery, Walter?"