Our Soldier Boy | Page 9

the poor fellow's misery and despair he felt that the only thing to do now was to sit down and let the tears run while he waited till it was morning.
But that was not to be, for just when his courage was at its lowest ebb he started and nearly dropped the tin, for from out of the darkness close by there was a piteous moan, and as he sought cautiously for the place from whence it came, he was helped by a low muttering as of someone saying a prayer very slowly. And it was, for he heard the words, "Thy will be done," and sank upon his knees by the sufferer's head without spilling another drop.
Dick did not speak, but waited for the prayer to be finished: but there was no farther sound, and he whispered gently: "I've brought the water."
Still there was no sound, and the boy began to think that he had come too late.
He spoke again and again, but there was no reply, and after feeling about a little he dipped his fingers in the tin and let a few drops fall upon the poor fellow's dry lips. Then more and more, as he found they moved. Then he scooped up as much as his little hand would hold, guided it carefully and held it there so that a few drops trickled between the man's lips and the others ran over his face and neck, with a strangely reviving effect. For there was a low sigh or two, and he could hear the sound repeated of his patient trying to swallow, after which his mouth opened widely, so that he was able to pour in more water, which now was swallowed with avidity.
All this had such a reviving effect that suddenly to Dick's great delight there was a hoarse whisper--
"More--more. Water--water."
This was responded to at once, and after a few more tiny portions had been poured between the sufferer's lips a hoarse voice said:--
"Heaven bless you, it has saved my life."
"Can you sit up a little and drink?" said Dick eagerly.
"I don't know--I'll try."
There was a faint rustling, a piteous groan of pain, and then:--
"Now quick. I can do no more. Water."
By touch Dick found that his companion had raised himself on one elbow, and he guided the tin to his lips with one hand, passing the other round the poor fellow's head to try and support him, as he drank eagerly till the last drops were drained from the tin.
"Like life--like life," was sighed, and Dick felt his patient sink down again with a sigh of content.
"Shall I fetch some more?" said the boy.
"Not yet. Tell me. Who are you? Is it a woman?"
Dick laughed in his great joy at hearing the words.
"No," he said: "it's only me."
"You? Who are you?"
"Dick. Mrs Corporal Beane's Dick."
"Oh, my boy, my boy, you have saved my life," moaned the sufferer, catching the little fellow's hand and pressing it to his fevered lips.
"But who are you?" said the boy. "I don't know your voice."
"Don't you, my brave little fellow? Yes, you do--the Colonel, Colonel Lavis."
"Oh," said Dick wonderingly, "and did somebody shoot you?"
"Yes. I was hit twice. I crawled away among the bushes and rocks after I fell, and then all was dark, and I was trying to creep to where I could hear water. But tell me, my brave lad. They drove the Frenchmen off?"
"No," said Dick sadly, and as he told all he knew the Colonel groaned again and again and to Dick's horror he heard him mutter to himself:--
"Better that I had died--better that I had died than suffer this. The defeat--the shame."
Then all was still in the darkness, the fear began to creep into Dick's breast again, and he gently stretched out his hand to touch the Colonel's, when to his great joy his hand was seized: then another hand touched it, and he felt it kissed and then held fast, drawing him forward so that he half lay across the wounded man's breast, and could feel the beating of his heart, lying thinking there till he heard a low sigh or two, followed by a steady regular breathing as if he slept.
And at last, utterly wearied out, sleep came to the boy as well, and he lay dreaming there, keeping what might have been the chill of death from a brave man's breast, till the sun rose again and was beating down warmly upon the back of Dick's head, when he opened his eyes to stare wonderingly at the stained and blackened face so close to his.
Dick did not dare to stir for fear of awakening the Colonel again: but he was not asleep, for after a time he opened his eyes and smiled pleasantly.
"The fortune of war, little comrade," he said.
"Yes, sir,"