Mr. Pattison looked simply awful. He had lost a tremendous lot of blood, and his head was covered with bandages; but his face was a horrid purple colour, and he was puffing out his cheeks and blowing through his lips every time he breathed.
"Hasn't come round yet," Dr. Richardson told me.
"Will he die?" I asked anxiously, for everybody had been awfully sorry for him ever since he had lost destroyer "No. 1", and I, of course, knew too that he was frightfully gone on Milly, and wanted to see him get back his luck.
"Can't tell, Glover; hope not;" and Dr. Richardson sat down wearily and tried to light his pipe.
"Haven't we done splendidly so far, sir," I said, opening my jacket to shield him from the wind as he struck his damp matches.
"Ask Pattison," he answered, shrugging his shoulders.
Captain Hunter came down just then to see how the wounded were getting on, so I slipped away, and, to tell the truth, was not at all sorry.
And, also, being near so many men who had been hit made me feel rather frightened.
* * * * *
I had better explain to you now exactly how we were situated at this time. All told, one hundred and fourteen men and ten officers had been landed. Of these seven had been killed and eighteen wounded, including Mr. Pattison, but not including Captain Williams (nor indeed Captain Hunter and Mr. Saunderson, who both had skin wounds, and several of the men as well).