The man leaned over and eased it a little.
"I wasn't crying because I was scared," said Frank.
The kind looking fellow turned away.
"Now, boys, get ready," said the corporal, taking up his pistol.
How large it looked to Frank. He wondered where the bullets would hit him, and if the wounds would bleed, and whether he would be left alone all night out there in the woods, and if his mother would come and kiss him.
"I want to say my prayers," he said, faintly.
The soldier made some reply which he could not hear, and the man with the beard started forward; but just then all grew dark before his eyes.
Next, he thought he must have been shot, for he felt wet about his face, and was lying down. He heard some one say, "He's coming to," and another replied, "Thank God!"
He opened his eyes. He was lying beside the little branch with his head in the lap of the big soldier with the beard, and the little corporal was leaning over him throwing water in his face from a cap. The others were standing around.
"What's the matter?" asked Frank.