Part 66 (1/2)

”Let's get breath first,” said my father. ”Sit down, my lads, anywhere.

How many are we? Only six all told? Who's hurt?”

”Oh, I'm all right, captain,” said the foreman; ”only a bit of a cut.”

”Only a bit of a cut!” said my father. ”Here, hold your arm.” My father drew out a bandage from his pocket, and tied up the foreman's arm, and he had no sooner done this than another man offered himself to be bandaged.

Just then a couple of shots were fired in our direction, and we heard the bullets strike the rocks not far away; but while our enemies were below, and in the full glare of the burning cottages, we were above them, and in the darkness of the shadows cast by the rocks.

So the shots were allowed to go unheeded, while the bandaging went on, every one having some injury which was borne without a murmur.

”Are you hurt, Sep?” said my father then, anxiously, after he had attended to his men.

”I don't think I'm cut anywhere,” I said; ”but my left arm hurts a good deal, and I can't breathe as I should like to.”

”Breathe?” he said eagerly.

”Yes; it hurts my side here and catches.”

”Humph!” he said. ”Can you tie this round my shoulder?”

”Why, father,” I said, ”are you wounded too?”

”A scratch, my boy; but it bleeds a good deal.”

He tore open his coat and tried to take it off, but could not, and we had to help him, and then roughly bandage his shoulder, where he had received a horrible cut.

I trembled as I helped, and forgot my own pains.

He noticed my trembling and laughed.

”Bah, Sep!” he said; ”this is nothing. I'm afraid some of our poor fellows there are worse. Ah, who's that? Be ready, men; we must retreat, we are not in fighting trim.”

For we could see a dark figure coming up after us, and it seemed to be an enemy; but directly after half a volley was fired at the figure, and we saw it drop and roll over.

”Down!” said my father with a groan. ”Oh, if we were only fresh and strong! But they are six to one, my lads, and it would be madness.”

”Look, father!” I cried pointing; ”they are going back.”

That was plain enough, and that they were going rapidly in answer to shouts of recall. So, encouraged by this, we were about to run down and help the man who had been shot, when by the glow of the fire we saw him rise up on his knees, and directly after there were a couple of flashes and reports, as he fired his pistols after the retreating foe, and then began to crawl up towards where we were.

”Why, it's Bigley, father,” I said excitedly. ”Ahoy!”

”Ahoy!” came back; and I saw my school-fellow get up and begin limping towards us as fast as he could come.

I ran to meet him, but stopped before I had gone many yards, for the painful sensation in my side checked me, and I was glad to hold my hand pressed upon the place, and wait till he came up.

”Oh, I am glad!” he cried, catching my hand. ”I thought--no, I won't say what I thought.”

”But you are hurt,” I said. ”Is it your leg?”

”Yes, I feel just as if I was a gull, Sep, and someone had shot me.”