breath.

"Oh, 'tis good!" he said. "Nice and cool too. What, did it hurt? Yes,
tidy; but I ain't going to howl about that. Good job it wasn't a
Frenchy. Don't want them to find us now we are amongst friends. If
that gal will only bring us a bit to eat for about another day I shall
be all right then. Sha'n't I, comrade?"

"Better, I hope, Punch," said Pen, smiling; "but you won't be all right
for some time yet."

"Gammon!" cried the boy. "I shall. It only wants plenty of pluck, and
a wound soon gets well. I mean to be fit to go on again precious soon,
and I will. I say, give us a bit more of that cake, and--I say--what's
the Spanish for butter?"

Pen shook his head.

"Well, cheese, then? That will do. I want to ask her to bring us some.
It's a good sign, ain't it, when a chap begins to get hungry?"

"Of course it is. All you have got to do is to lie still, and not worry
your wound by trying to move."

"Yes, it is all very fine, but you ain't got a wound, and don't know how
hard it is to lie still. I try and try, and I know how it hurts me if I
do move, but I feel as if I must move all the same. I say, I wish we
had got a book! I could keep quiet if you read to me."

"I wish I had one, Punch, but I must talk to you instead."

"Well, tell us a story."

"I can't, Punch."

"Yes, you can; you did tell me your story about how you came to take the
shilling."

"Well, yes, I did tell you that."

"Of course you did, comrade. Well, that's right. Tell us again."

"Nonsense! You don't want to hear that again."

"Oh, don't I? But I do. I could listen to that a hundred times over.
It sets me thinking about how I should like to punch somebody's head--
your somebody, I mean. Tell us all about it again."

"No, no; don't ask me to do that, Punch," said Pen, wrinkling up his
forehead.

"Why? It don't hurt your feelings, does it?"

"Well, yes, it does set me thinking about the past."

"All right, then; I won't ask you. Here, I know--give us my bugle and
the bit of flannel and stuff out of the haversack. I want to give it a
polish up again."

"Why, you made it quite bright last time, Punch. It doesn't want
cleaning. You can't be always polishing it."

"Yes, I can. I want to keep on polishing till I have rubbed out that
bruise in the side. It's coming better already. Give us hold on it."

Pen hesitated, but seeing how likely it was to quiet his patient's
restlessness, he placed the b