lege, the
Infirmary and old Surgeons' Square. Once more he sat in the theatre,
the breathless spectator of famous surgical operations; or as
house-surgeon to the Lying-in Hospital himself assisted in daring
attempts to lessen suffering and save life. It was, of course, too late
now to bemoan the fact that he had broken with his profession. Yet only
that very day envy had beset him. The rest of the fraternity had run to
and from the tents where the wounded were housed, while he, behung with
his shopman's apron, pottered about among barrels and crates. No one
thought of enlisting his services; another, not he, would set (or
bungle) the fracture he had temporarily splinted.

The hut--it had four slab walls and an earthen floor--was in darkness
on his arrival, for Purdy had not dared to make a light. He lay tossing
restlessly on a dirty old straw palliasse, and was in great pain; but
greeted his friend with a dash of the old brio.

Hanging his coat over the chinks in the door, and turning back his
sleeves, Mahony took up the lantern and stooped to examine the injured
leg. A bullet had struck the right ankle, causing an ugly wound. He
washed it out, dressed and bandaged it. He also bathed the patient's
sweat-soaked head and shoulders; then sat down to await the owner of
the hut's return.

As soon as the latter appeared he took his leave, promising to ride out
again the night after next. In spite of the circumstances under which
they met, he and Purdy parted with a slight coolness. Mahony had loudly
voiced his surprise at the nature of the wound caused by the bullet: it
was incredible that any of the military could have borne a weapon of
this calibre. Pressed, Purdy admitted that his hurt was a piece of
gross ill-luck: he had been accidentally shot by a clumsy fool of a
digger, from an ancient holster-pistol.

To Mahony this seemed to cap the climax; and he did not mask his
sentiments. The pitiful little forcible-feeble rebellion, all along but
a futile attempt to cast straws against the wind, was now completely
over and done with, and would never be heard of again. Or such at
least, he added, was the earnest hope of the law-abiding community.
This irritated Purdy, who was spumy with the self-importance of one who
has stood in the thick of the fray. He answered hotly, and ended by
rapping out with a contemptuous click of the tongue: "Upon my word,
Dick, you look at the whole thing like the tradesman you are!"

These wor