s of the carriers leaped into the swamps without
them.

As soon as Frank heard that some of his company had been wounded, all
sense of danger to himself was forgotten, and no remonstrance from his
friend the drum-major could prevent his rushing in to assist in bringing
them off.

Finding that the boy, whose welfare was so precious to him, could not be
restrained, Mr. Sinjin plunged in with him, and kept at his side,
scrambling through mud and brush and water, and over logs and roots, in
the direction of the firing.

They had not gone far when they met a wounded soldier coming out. His
right hand hung mangled and ghastly and bleeding at his side. A slug from
a rifle musket had ploughed it through, nearly severing the fingers from
the wrist.

"Ellis!" cried Frank--"you hurt?"

Ned swung the disabled and red-dripping member up to view, with a sorry
smile.

"Not so bad as might be!" he said, with a rather faint show of gayety.
"Jack has got it worse."

"Jack who?"--for there were several Jacks in the company.

"Winch," said Ellis, whilst the old drummer was binding up his hand to
stop the blood.

"Is he killed?" asked Frank, with a strange feeling--almost of remorse,
remembering his late bitter and vindictive thoughts towards John.

"I don't know. We were both hit by the same ball, I believe. It must have
passed through his neck. It came from one side, and we tumbled both
together. What I tumbled for, I don't know. It didn't take me long to
pick myself up again!"

"And Jack?"

"There he lies, with blood all over his face."

"And nobody caring for him?"

"The boys have something else to think of!" said Ellis, with a pallid
smile.

Mr. Sinjin, having tied up the wound, directed him how to find the
surgeon. And Ellis, in return, pointed out the best way to get at Jack.

The company had advanced, driving the rebel skirmishers before them, and
leaving Winch where he had fallen. Frank and his companion soon reached
the spot. There lay the hapless youth under the roots of the tree, the
left side of his face and neck all covered with gore.

"Jack!" cried Frank, stooping by his side, and lifting his arm.

No answer. The arm fell heavily again as he released it.

"Dead!" said the boy, a sudden calmness coming over him. "We may as well
leave him where he is, and look for others."

"Not dead yet," said the more experienced Sinjin, feeling Jack's heart,
which was beating still. In corroboration of which statem