My master! What of him? There he lay, motionless and pale, with his blue eyes closed, and a little stream of blood trickling down his chest. Could he be dead?
Anxiously I listened if his heart still beat. At first all seemed silent as death. Then there seemed a slight quiver, and as I listened still, a faint throb. He lived still! How I longed for help to come!
And before long it came. Two soldiers of Charlie’s regiment came out of the fort and walked straight towards us.
“It was close to the breach he dropped,” said one.
“Come on, then,” said the other, “and we may be in time.”
They were not long in finding the object of their search, and leant eagerly over him.
“He’s dead, poor fellow!” said the first; “shot right through the heart!”
“So he is,” said the other. “It must have—wait a bit!” cried he, in sudden excitement. “Feel here, Tom, quick! he’s alive yet! Oh, if we could only get hold of a doctor!”
“Is there one about at all?”
“Not that I know of, unless the Major knows what to do.”