In the little circle of the branches of the old
tree we were quiet as--yes, as the grave. Vera, holding the captain's
head fiercely close, looked wildly round for help. It was Frances who
slipped by me and with her handkerchief wiped away the blood that stood
upon the temple.

Oh, the relief! A long red bruise showed where the bullet had passed.

And then he opened his eyes. Vera, looking down on him, said quite
simply, "Are you all right, Allan?"

Was he all right? Was he in heaven? At the look on his face I turned away
with sudden tears in my eyes. The rest, I know, also avoided that solemn
privacy. As it came about, mother, I turned toward Frances, and she,
quite overcome, to me. In such a moment of emotion, things happen. As she
rested on my breast, we found that she belonged there.

It was the trampling of the major's horse that brought us to ourselves.
The captain, though pale and unsteady, was on his feet. Bannister had
drawn the squad quietly out of the shade of the tree. They were looking at
the landscape; as for the major, he was most inscrutable, which happens,
you know, when there is something to scrutinize. Said he very innocently:
"The lieutenant will take the company in, Captain Kirby. I think we'd
better ask your friends here to bring you to the surgeon.--Call your men
together, Mr. Pendleton!"

The lieutenant, pale as the captain, yet looking very resolute, stepped
up to him and wrenched his hand, bowed over Vera's, turned about and blew
his whistle. With his hand he signalled the assembly. And good Bannister,
very apologetic at interrupting my love-making, said diffidently "Hem!
Squad Eight, fall in!"

But I kissed Frances before them all, and helped the captain into the
tonneau, where they established him very comfortably between the two
girls. It was not till I had got a smile from him and a proud look from
Vera that I went to my place in the company. As I went I saw out of the
corner of my eye the major and his staff holding an inquest on the
platoon that had fired on us. I wondered who had had that clip of ball
cartridges.

But they never found out. We rested for a while at the crossroads, and I
can tell you I had to stand some banter from the squad after the motor
had shot by us, with Frances's handkerchief fluttering to me. There was
very excited speculation as to the penalty for shooting the captain; some
were for a military execution when we got to camp, with burial on the
drill field.