ed, and I started, for a voice said, "He's
asleep."

"Yes, I know," I replied; "but has he been awake?"

"Yes; an hour ago."

"How did he seem?" I asked.

"Said it hurt him a deal, just as if his ribs were broken. Ah! he
doesn't know what pain is."

"Do you?" I said.

"Rather!" said the man. "One of their bullets went right through my
thigh just about six inches below my hip. That is pain. It's just as
if a red-hot iron was being pushed through."

"Can I get anything for you?" I said.

"No," was the gruff reply; "unless you can get me a heap of patience to
bear all this pain."

I tried to say a few comforting words to him, but they only seemed to
irritate.

"Don't," he said peevishly. "I know you want to be kind, my lad; but
I'm not myself now, and it only makes me feel mad. There, thank ye for
it all; but please go before I say something ungrateful."

I crept away and tried to find the doctor who was with the corps; but he
was busy with his wounded men, of whom he had about twenty. Giving up
the satisfaction of getting his report about the young Lieutenant, I
went to where Sandho was picketed with the rest, and stood by his head
for about half-an-hour, petting and caressing him, before going back
towards the rough breastwork--partly natural, partly artificial--which
served as a shelter from the bullets.

I soon came upon one of the sentries, who challenged me; but he made
room for me beside him after a few words had passed.

"Oh yes," he said, "you can stay here if you like; but why don't you go
and lie down till you have to relieve guard?"

"Because I feel too excited to sleep," I replied.

"Humph! Yes, it has been warm work," said the sentry; "but I suppose we
shall get used to it. I'm excited; but I feel as if I'd give anything
to lie down for an hour."

"Well, lie down," I said. "I'll keep watch for you."

"You will?" he said joyfully. "No, no; I'm not going to break down like
that. Don't say any more about it. It's like tempting a man. Here, I
say," he whispered eagerly, "how quiet they are! You don't think
they're going to make a night attack--do you?"

"No," I said; "it's not likely. What good could they do when they
couldn't see to shoot?"

"None, of course. It's not as if they were soldiers with bayonets. The
only thing they could do would be to stampede the horses."

"What!" I whispered excitedly. "Oh, I say, don't talk like that."

"Only a bit of an idea tha