第 40 页

once. I kept on wondering whether you wanted me, until I nearly

worked myself into a fever."

"Thank you," Ralph said. "I have been all the better for being

allowed to sleep on. I have had nearly thirteen hours of it. I feel

queer, about the head; but otherwise I feel all right.

"I am terribly thirsty."

"I have got nothing but water to offer you," the woman said. "The

Germans drank the last drop of our wine up, months ago. But I had a

few apples; and I have roasted them, and put them in this jug of

water. It will give it a taste, and is good for fever.

"In this jug is some herb tea, which you must drink when you feel

feverish.

"And now, do you feel as if you could eat some broth?"

"That I do," Ralph said.

His hostess put her arm under him, and raised him up into a sitting

posture; in which she retained him by kneeling down beside him, and

holding him up as if he had been a child. Then she gave him a basin

of bread broth, and a drink of water; shook up his pillow, arranged

the things over him; and put a fresh cloth, dipped in water, on his

head.

"Here is a box of matches," she said, "and here is the water and

herb tea, in reach of your arm. You're not cold, are you?"

"No, thank you," Ralph said, "and in spite of the sleep I have had,

I feel as if I could go off again till morning, comfortably."

"Be patient, if I am late," the woman said. "I will come as soon as

I can. If I am late, you will know that there are Germans about."

Ralph's idea of his capacity for sleep turned out correct. It was

still dark when he woke but, striking a match, he found that it was

nearly seven o'clock. He at once blew out the match, felt for the

apple water, took a drink, and then nestled down deep into the fur

coat.

"It will be getting light in another hour," he said to himself.

"It's awfully cold, too; but I am better off, here, than I should

be in the field. I hope she will be here soon; I want to know if

she has any news. Well, there is only an hour to lay awake," and,

almost as he murmured the words, Ralph dropped off again, and slept

until ten o'clock.

This time, he woke with the slight creaking which the trap door

made.

"How are you today, Monsieur le Capitaine?" his hostess said.

"I am getting on capitally, thanks to your care," Ralph said. "And

what have you there?"

"Your breakfast and some plaster. My husband started, yesterday

evening, to walk to the doctor, who lives twelve miles off. He told

him all about you; but the doctor would not come, himself. However,

he sent word that the wound was to be washed well, twice a day,

with warm water; and that a little lint is to be laid in it each

time, after the bathing and, when the inflammation ceases to look

angry, I am to draw the edges together as closely as I can, and

strap them together with these strips of plaster."

"It is very kind of your husband," Ralph said, "very kind. Did the

doctor say how long I should be, before I could be about again?"

"No," the woman said. "Jacques asked him, but he said that he could

not say without seeing the wound, and examining you. Jacques

described its position: coming down from the back of the head,

taking off just a little bit of the top of the ear, and then ending

on the cheekbone. He said that Monsieur le Capitaine must have a

head as thick as a wall, or it would have killed him."

Ralph smiled, and his hostess set to work to carry out her

instructions.

"Shall I take away your uniform and hide it away so that, in case

the enemy search and find you, they will have no proof against

you?"

"No, no," Ralph said; "the uniform shows I am not a franc tireur;

and so will prevent my being hung, and you having your house burnt

over your head. Besides which, I should be entitled to be treated

as an officer. My uniform is the best protection for us all.

"Have you any news of what is going on?"

"We heard firing yesterday," the woman said, "and today we can hear

a constant booming, from the direction of Orleans."

Ralph listened, but the bandage prevented his hearing anything.

"You are very kind," he said, "but you can hardly think how I want

to be off. However, I fear that I am here for a week, at the very

least. Just think what I am missing."

"It seems to me," the woman said, "you are missing a great many

chances of being killed; which I should consider to be a very

fortunate miss, indeed. I should not like Jacques to have that gash

on the head; but I would a great deal rather that he was lying here

wounded, just as you are, than to know that he was in the middle of

all that fighting at Orleans.

"Be patient, my friend. We will do our best for you. If you have no

fever, tomorrow, Jacques will try and buy some meat and some wine

for you, at one of the villages; and then you will soon get quite

strong."

When Ralph had eaten his breakfast, he again laid down; and his

kind hostess left him, as her husband was obliged to be out and at

work, and it was necessary that she should be at home, to answer

any straggling troops of the enemy who might pass.

"I wish I had Tim with me," Ralph said, to himself. "Tim would

amuse me, and make me laugh. It would be desperately cold for him.

I am all right, under my blanket and this warm coat. Well, I

suppose I must try to sleep as many hours away as I can."

Chapter 20: Crossing The Lines.

Ralph was destined to a longer stay upon his hay bed in the loft

than he had anticipated. The next day, instead of being better he

was a good deal worse. Inflammation had again set in, and he was

feverish and incoherent in his talk. He was conscious of this,

himself, by seeing the dismay in the face of the nurse, when he had

been rambling on to her for some time, in English.

At last, with an effort, he commanded his attention, and said to

her:

"How far is it from here to Orleans?"

"Seventeen miles," she said.

"Look here," he said, "you are very kind, and I know that you do

not want to be paid for your kindness; but I am well off, and I

know you have lost your horse and cow, and so you must let me pay

you for what you do for me.

"I am afraid I am going to have fever. I want your husband to go

into Orleans. The Prussians went in yesterday, you say; and so your

husband will not have to cross any outposts to get there. There is

an English ambulance there. I will write a line in pencil; and I am

sure they will give him some fever medicine, and anything else I

may require. Please feel in the breast pocket of my coat; you will

find a pocket book, with a pencil in it."

The woman did as he told her; and Ralph, with a great effort,

wrote:

"I am an Englishman, though a captain in the French service. I am

wounded with a saber, in the head; and am sheltered in a loft.

Inflammation has set in and, I fear, fever. I am obliged, indeed,

to make a great effort to master it sufficiently to write this.

Please send some fever medicine, by the bearer, and some arrowroot.

A lemon or two would be a great blessing.

"Ralph Barclay."

He then tore out the leaf, folded, and directed it to the head of

the English ambulance, Orleans.

"How is he to know the English ambulance?"

"It has a red cross on a white ground, as all the others have; and

an English flag--that is, a flag with red and white stripes going

from corner to corner, and crossing each other in the middle. But

anyone will tell him."

"I am sure he will set out at once," the woman said, and left the

loft.

In ten minutes she returned.

"He has started," she said, "but not to Orleans. My husband,

directly I gave him the message, said that he had heard that there

was an English ambulance at Terminiers, attending to the wounded

picked up on the battlefield. It is only five miles from here."

"Thank God for that," Ralph said.

Three hours later the farmer returned, with a bottle of medicine,

some arrowroot, lemons, a bottle of wine, some Liebig's essence of

meat--for making broth--and a message that the English surgeon

would ride over, as soon as he could get away. The farmer had given

him detailed instructions for finding the house; but was afraid of

stopping to act as his guide as, had he been seen walking by the

side of the surgeon's horse, the suspicions of any German they

might encounter would be at once excited.

The surgeon arrived an hour later, and was at once taken to Ralph's

bedside. Ralph, however, could not speak to, or even recognize the

presence of his countryman; for he was in a high state of fever.

The surgeon examined his wound carefully.

"I think he will get over it," he said, to the farmer's wife. "It

is a nasty cut; but there is nothing dangerous in the wound,

itself. It is the general shock to the system, together with the

hardships and suffering he had gone through. He is a mere boy--not

above seventeen or eighteen. He says in his note he is a captain,

but it can hardly be so."

"He is a captain, sir. There is his uniform hanging up."

"Yes," the surgeon said, "that is the uniform of a captain in the

staff, and he has got the commander's button of the legion of

honor. I wonder who he can be.

"Ralph Barclay," he said thoughtfully, looking at the pencil note

Ralph had sent him. "Ah, now I remember the name. I thought it was

familiar to me. This is the young Englishman who made his way

through the lines into Paris, with dispatches He is a fine young

fellow. We must do what we can for him."

"Could you take him into your hospital, sir?" the woman asked.

"He will be better where he is, if you will continue to nurse him."

"Yes, I will do that; but I thought he would be so much better

looked after, in the hospital."

"No," the surgeon said, "that is just what he would not be. Every

room is literally crowded with wounded; and wounds do infinitely

better in fresh, pure air, like this, than in a room with a close

atmosphere, and other bad wounds.

"The fever medicine I sent over will last him for some days. I have

brought over a tin of little biscuits. Give him the fever medicine,

every two hours, until there is a change; and whenever you can get

him to take it, give him a little broth made of a spoonful of the

essence of meat in a liter of boiling water or, for a change, some

arrowroot. I will show you how to make it, when we get back to the

house.

"Can you manage to stay with him? He will want a good deal of

looking after, for the next two days."

"Yes, sir, I was talking to Jacques about it, today. He will go

over to the next village--it is only a mile away--and will fetch my

sister, who lives there, to keep house for a bit."

"That is capital," the surgeon said. "And now, watch attentively

how I put this bandage on; and do it the same way, once a day. When

you have put the bandage on, you must put wet cloths to his head,

as long as he remains delirious. I am awfully busy; but I will ride

over again, in three or four days, to see how he is getting on.

"By the way, it may be an advantage to you if I give you a paper,

signed by me, to say that you are taking care of a wounded French

officer at my request as--although you wished to send him to the

ambulance--I refused because, in the first place, he could not bear

moving; and in the second, the ambulance was as full as it could

possibly hold. That will clear you, in case any German parties come

along and find him."

It was a week before Ralph opened his eyes with any consciousness

of what he saw. He looked round, with a vague wonderment as to

where he was. In a minute or two, a look of recognition came into

his face. Looking round, he saw that there were changes. A small

piece had been sawn out of the shutter, so as to let in air and

light while it remained closed. A table and a chair were beside his

bed. In a corner of the loft was a small flat stove, with a few

embers glowing upon it, and a saucepan standing upon them. Upon the

opposite side of the loft to that where he was lying was a heap of

hay, similar to his own; with a figure, rolled up in a blanket,

lying on it.

For some time, Ralph thought all this over in the vague, wondering

way peculiar to people recovering from a long illness. Most, he

puzzled over the occupant of the other bed; and at last concluded

that it was some fugitive, like himself. For some time he lay and

watched the figure until, presently, it moved, threw off the

blanket and rose and, to his surprise, he saw that it was his

nurse.

"Thanks to all the saints!" she exclaimed, when she saw him looking

at her. "You are better, at last. I think that I was asleep, too.

But you were sleeping so quiet, that I thought I would take a nap;

for I was so sleepy."

"How long have I been here?" Ralph asked.

"Just a week, from the time the fever took you. The English doctor

came over and saw you, and sent lots of things for you, and said

you were not to be left; so I had the bed made up here, and my

sister came over to take care of Jacques. And now, you must not

talk any more. Drink this broth, and then go off to sleep again."

Ralph complied. He was too tired and weak to ask any more

questions, and it was not until next day that he heard of the

obstinate battles which General Chanzy had fought--on the 7th, 8th,

and 10th--near Beauguency.

"Thank goodness," Ralph said, "we can't have been very badly

beaten, if we were able to fight three drawn battles within about

twenty miles of a first defeat."

For the next two days, Ralph improved in health. Then he had a