Fix Bay'nets Part 33

"No, no; I want to speak to you. I think I can trust you, Gedge?"

"Yes, sir; of course, sir. What yer want me to do?"

"Hold your tongue, my lad."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't tell the Doctor or Mrs Gee that I hit Captain Roberts on the back yesterday."

"How could I, sir? Did yer?"

"Yes, yes," said Bracy hurriedly. "Nor yet about my arm doing what it did."

"No, sir, cert'n'y not; but I say, sir, you know, your arm didn't do nothing but go to sleep."

"Nor yet about my trying to kick Mr Drummond," said Bracy, without heeding his fellow--sufferer's words.

"Oh no; I shan't say nothing to n.o.body, sir, unless you tell me to."

"That's right," said Bracy, with a sigh of relief. "That will do. Go now; I want to sleep till Mr Drummond comes back."

"Right, sir," said Gedge, and he went to the bed's head and gently raised the sufferer, while he turned the pillow.

"Makes yer head a bit cooler, sir."

"Yes, thanks, Gedge," said Bracy drowsily; and by the time the lad was outside he was half-asleep.

"I don't like them games of the guvnor's," said Gedge to himself.--"Guvnor? Well, why not? I'm like being orficer's servant now. There's something queer about him, as if he was a bit off his head and it made him get up to larks; for he can't be--No, no, that's impossible, even if it looks like it. He ain't the sorter chap to be playing at sham Abram and make-believe because he was sick of fighting and didn't want to run no more risks."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE DOCTOR IN A FANTIGUE.

Drummond returned to the hospital with his gla.s.s, and, to Mrs Sergeant Gee's disgust, installed himself in the window and sat for a couple of hours lightening the painful monotony of Bracy's imprisonment by scanning the movements of the distant enemy hovering about in the hills, and making comments thereon.

"Ah," he said at last, "what we want here is a company of gunners, with light howitzers to throw sh.e.l.ls a tremendous distance. If we could have that cleverly and accurately done, we could soon scatter the beggars; but as it is--"

"Yes, as it is," said Bracy peevishly, "we have no gunners and no howitzers; and if we had, how could they be dragged about among these hills?"

"It would be difficult," said Drummond. "There are some fellows crawling out of that west ravine now. Wait till I've focussed them, and--"

"No, no; don't do any more to-day," cried Bracy. "I can't bear it. You only make me fretful because I can't be about doing something again."

"Of course it does; but what is it, old fellow? Are you in pain?"

"Pain? I'm in agony, Drummond. I can't sit up, for I seem to have no power; and I can't lie still, because I feel as if there; was something red-hot burning through my spine."

"Poor old chap! I say--think the bullet is still there?"

"No, no; it pa.s.sed right through."

"What does the Doctor say?"

"Always the same--always the same: 'You're getting better.'"

"That's right; so you are," said the Doctor, who had just come to the door.--"Ah, Mr Drummond, you here?"

"Yes, sir. Cheering poor old Bracy up a bit."

"That's right. How's your wound?"

"Horrible nuisance, sir."

"Hum! ha! I should like to have; a look at it, but I suppose it would not be etiquette. All the same, etiquette or no, if it does not begin to mend soon come to me."

"I will, sir. Good-afternoon. Ta, ta, Bracy, old man. Keep up your spirits."

"You needn't go, Mr Drummond," said the Doctor. "I can't stay many minutes, and you can talk to him after I'm gone. Well, Bracy, my lad, wounds easier?"

"No. Worse."

"That they are not, sir. You told me you felt a little numbness of the extremities."

"Yes, sir. Arm and leg go dead."

The Doctor nodded.

"That agonising pain in the back goes on too," continued Bracy.

"Sometimes it is unbearable."

"Do you think the bullet is still there, sir?" ventured Drummond.

"You stick to your regimental manoeuvres, sir," said the Doctor gruffly.

"What do you know about such things?"

"Not much, sir; only one of our fellows was very bad that way before you came, and it was through the bullet remaining in the wound."

The Doctor nodded slowly, and made an examination of his patient, promised to send him something to lull the pain, and then, after a few cheerful words, went away, sent a draught, and the sufferer dropped into a heavy sleep.

The days went on, with plenty of what Shakespeare called alarums and excursions in the neighbourhood of the great fort, the enemy being constantly making desultory attacks, but only to find Graves's boys and Wrayford's men, as they were laughingly called, always on the alert, so that the attacking party were beaten off with more or less loss, but only to come on again from some unexpected direction.

Bracy had plenty of visitors, and Mrs Gee told him that this was the cause of his want of progress; but the visitors dropped in all the same, and the patient made no advance towards convalescence. Now it would be the Colonel, who was kind and fatherly, and went away feeling uneasy at the peculiarity of his young officer's symptoms, for Bracy was fretful and nervous in the extreme; now an arm would jerk, then a leg, and his manner was so strange that when the Colonel went away he sent for Dr Morton, who bustled in, to meet the Colonel's eye searchingly.

"Doctor," said the latter, "I've just come from Bracy's bedside. He does not get on."

"Not a bit," said the Doctor gruffly.