“Of our wounded,” said Adolph.
“Yes, our wounded; for, though my pronunciation is rather German than French, I am a native and a citizen of France, educated in Germany, and bearing in my speech pretty strong proofs of my master’s powers of instruction, and my own of imitation. I have left some of the volunteer nurses with others, and have come to do my best by you. I have some acquaintance with the art. Is this your dog?”
“Yes, this is Ponto the second; his predecessor, whom I brought from the village with me, perished in the same action in which his master received his present wound; and long used to the company of a faithful dog, I procured this, the nearest resemblance to old Ponto that I could find, and have christened him after his predecessor.”
“And transferred your affections from the old to the new companion?”
“Not entirely yet, but nearly, I think; he is likely to inherit the love as well as the name of the deceased.”
“Love is a quality easily transferred, then?” said Klemm.
“Why, yes; we soldiers, who are quartered in favorable positions, do certainly find it a convertible commodity.”
“I will dress your wound,” said Klemm.
When the office had been performed, and Adolph was settled quietly down upon his well beaten pillow, Klemm said, “It is now time for me to repair to my duties at head-quarters, and you would better compose yourself to sleep. Do you need the assistance of a chaplain as well as a nurse?”
“To confess the truth,” said Adolph, “I believe I could about as well dress my wound myself, as to go over some of those troublesome prayers with which my boyhood was unutterably bored. I think, however, that a little sleep would be about as refreshing as prayers.”