past help," murmured Roger.

"Let us find out," advised the practical Jacques, and, kneeling down on
the other side, he assisted me to loosen the doublet.

CHAPTER XVI

A Gleam of Sunshine

"The heart beats, monsieur; faintly, but it beats."

"Are you sure, Jacques? Are you quite certain?"

"I can feel it plainly, monsieur. He has lost a great deal of blood. If
we move him the bleeding may begin again; I will fetch a surgeon to
dress his wounds here."

It seemed an age before Jacques returned with a surgeon, and meanwhile
Felix lay perfectly still. There was not the flutter of an eyelid, not
the twitching of a muscle; only by placing a hand over his heart could
one tell that he still lived.

The surgeon shook his head as he bound up the wounds, evidently having
little faith in my comrade's chance of recovery. We got him back to the
camp, however, where Jacques and I watched by turns all night at his
side. Toward morning he moved restlessly, and presently his eyes opened.

"Felix," I said softly, with a great joy at my heart, "Felix, do you
know me?"

"The flag!" he said feebly, "follow the flag! Forward, brave hearts!"
and he would have risen, but I held him down gently.

"The battle is over, Felix; we have won a great victory. It is I,
Edmond. You have been wounded, but are getting better. We found you on
the field."

"I dropped the flag," he said, smiling at me, but not knowing me.

"It is all right. We picked it up; it is here," and I placed it near
him. His hand closed lovingly round the silken folds, and his eyes were
filled with deep contentment.

Leaving the room quietly, I called to Jacques, saying, "He is awake, but
he does not recognize me."

"Give him time, monsieur; his brain is not yet clear, but he will come
round. Sit by him a while, so that he can see you; he will remember by
degrees."

Acting on this suggestion, I returned to the bedside and sat down, but
without speaking. Felix lay fingering the flag, but presently his eyes
sought mine, wonderingly at first, but afterwards with a gleam of
recognition in them.

I had sat thus for perhaps half an hour, when he called me by name, and
I bent over him with a throb of joy.

"Edmond," he said, "where are we? Is the battle over?"

"Yes, and Cosse has been badly beaten. You were hurt in the last
charge."

"Yes," he said slowly, "I remember. Ah, you found the flag!"

"It was lying beside you; your horse was killed."

"A pist