open insult, now lay cold and lifeless at my feet. What a
rush of sensations passed through my mind as I gazed on that motionless
mass! and oh, what gratitude my heart gushed to think that he did not
fall by _my_ hand!

"A brave soldier, but a quarrelsome friend," said the surgeon, stooping
down to examine the wound, with all the indifference of a man who
regarded life as a mere problem. "It was a cannon-shot carried it off."
As he said this, he disclosed the mangled remains of a limb, torn from
the trunk too high to permit of amputation. "Poor Amedee! it was the
death he always wished for. It was a strange horror he had of falling
by the hand of an adversary, rather than being carried off thus. And now
for the cuirassier."

So saying, he turned towards the bed on which Pioche lav, still as death
itself. A few minutes' careful investigation of the case enabled him to
pronounce that although the chances were many against recovery, yet it
was not altogether hopeless.

"All will depend on the care of whoever watches him," said the surgeon.
"Symptoms will arise, requiring prompt attention and a change in
treatment; and this is one of those cases where a nurse is worth a
hundred doctors. Who takes charge of this bed?" he called aloud.

"Minette, Monsieur," said a sergeant. "She has lain down to take a
little rest, for she was quite worn out with fatigue."

"Me voici!" said a silvery voice I knew at once to be hers. And the
same instant she pierced the crowd around the bed, and approached the
patient. No sooner had she beheld the features of the sick man than she
reeled back, and grasped the arms of the persons on either side. For a
few seconds she stood, with her hands pressed upon her face, and when
she withdrew them, her features were almost ghastly in their hue, while,
with a great effort over her emotion, she said, in a low voice, "Can he
recover?"

"Yes, Minette!" replied the surgeon, "and will, if care avail anything.
Just hear me for a moment."

With that he drew her to one side, and commenced to explain the
treatment he proposed to adopt. As he spoke, her cloak, which up to this
instant she wore, dropped from her shoulders, and she stood there in the
dress of the vivandiere: a short frock coat, of light blue, with a thin
gold braid upon the collar and the sleeve; loose trousers of white jean,
strapped beneath her boots; a silk sash of scarlet and gold entwined was
fastened round her waist, and fell in a long