f I had been shamming, and
ought to get up, and--and--oh, no I don't," said the poor fellow softly,
as he made an effort to change his position, the slight movement
bringing forth an ejaculation of pain. "Just like a red-hot bayonet."

"Poor old chap!" said Pen, gently altering the injured lad's position.
"You must be careful, and wait."

"But I don't want to wait," cried the boy peevishly. "It has made me
feel as weak as a great gal. I don't believe that one would have made
so much fuss as I do."

"There, there, don't worry about it. Go on eating the grapes."

"No," said the boy piteously. "Don't feel to want them now. The shoot
that went through me turned me quite sick. I say, comrade, I sha'n't
want to get up and go on to-morrow. I suppose I must wait another day."

"Yes, Punch," said Pen, laying his uninjured hand upon the boy's
forehead, which felt cold and dank with the perspiration produced by the
pain.

"But, I say, do have some of these grapes."

"Yes, if you will," said Pen, picking up the little bunch that the
wounded boy had let fall upon the bed. "Try. They will take off the
feeling of sickness. Can you eat some of the bread too?"

"No," said Punch, shaking his head; but he did, and by degrees the pain
died out, and he began to chat about the encounter, and how eager he
felt to get out into the open country again.

"I say, comrade," he said at last, "I never liked to tell you before,
but when it's been dark I have been an awful coward and lain coming out
wet with scare, thinking I was going to die and that you would have to
scrape a hole for me somewhere and cover me up with stones. I didn't
like to tell you before, because I knew you would laugh at me and tell
me it was all nonsense for being such a coward. D'ye see, that bullet
made a hole in my back and let all the pluck out of me. But your set-to
with that chap seemed to tell me that it hadn't all gone, for I felt
ready for anything again, and that there was nothing the matter with me,
only being as weak as a rat."

"To be sure!" cried Pen, laying his hand upon the boy's shoulder. "That
is all that's the matter with you. You have got to wait till your
strength comes back again, and then, Punch, you and I are going to see
if we can't join the regiment again."

"That's right," cried the boy, with his dull eyes brightening; "and if
we don't find them we will go on our travels till we do. Why, it will
be fine, won't it, as soon