CHAPTER XV.
ANY PORT IN A STORM.
To say that Ephraim was astonished as this sympathetic remark fell upon his ear, would be to convey a very faint idea of his sensations. For the moment he was simply bewildered. The voice was the voice of a friend, and where in all that great army should he look for a friend just now?
‘Who air ye?’ he attempted to say; but his tongue clove to his mouth, and no sound came from his lips.
He groped for the corporal’s canteen and took a drink. ‘Who air ye?’ he said at last. ‘Who air ye thet speak ter me like thet?’
His legs began to tremble under him. He sat down upon the ground and took another sip of water from the canteen. It refreshed him, and he listened eagerly for the reply.
‘A friend,’ answered the sentry. ‘Don’t ye be down in the mouth, Eph Sykes. I’m hyar ter help ye. On’y we must go cautious, ye know.’
‘Who air ye?’ repeated Ephraim. ‘Who air ye?’ He said it over and over again monotonously, like a parrot repeating the words.