Mr. Bernard put his hand to his head.
“My mind is confused,” he said. “I've had a fall.—Oh, yes!—wait a minute and it will all come back to me.”
“Sit down, sit down,” the Doctor said. “Abel will tell me about it. Slight concussion of the brain. Can't remember very well for an hour or two,—will come right by to-morrow.”
“Been stunded,” Abel said. “He can't tell nothin'.”
Abel then proceeded to give a Napoleonic bulletin of the recent combat of cavalry and infantry and its results,—none slain, one captured.
The Doctor looked at the prisoner through his spectacles.
“What 's the matter with your shoulder, Venner?”
Dick answered sullenly, that he didn't know, fell on it when his horse came down. The Doctor examined it as carefully as he could through his clothes.
“Out of joint. Untie his hands, Abel”
By this time a small alarm had spread among the neighbors, and there was a circle around Dick, who glared about on the assembled honest people like a hawk with a broken wing.