| 483 | 484 | 485 | 486 | 487 |
| 1 | 171 | 343 | 514 | 685 |
|
Two men were lying on two of the mattresses at the end of the room. A
third mattress was unoccupied and was waiting.
The wounded man nearest to me had received a musket ball in his stomach.
He it was who was gurgling. The old woman came towards the mattress with
a candle, and whispered to us, showing us her fist, "If you could only
see the hole that that has made! We have stuffed lint as large as this
into his stomach."
She resumed, "He is not above twenty-five years old. He will be dead
to-morrow morning."
The other was still younger. He was hardly eighteen. "He has a handsome
black overcoat," said the woman. "He is most likely a student." The
young man had the whole of the lower part of his face swathed in
blood-stained linen. She explained to us that he had received a ball in
the mouth, which had broken his jaw. He was in a high fever, and gazed
at us with lustrous eyes. From time to time he stretched his right arm
towards a basin full of water in which a sponge was soaking; he took the
sponge, carried it to his face, and himself moistened his bandages.
It seemed to me that his gaze fastened upon me in a singular manner. I
went up to him, I stooped down, and I gave him my hand, which he took in
his own. "Do you know me?" I asked him. He answered "Yes," by a pressure
of the hand which went to my heart.
The last-maker said to me, "Wait a minute for me here, I shall be back
directly; I want to see in this neighborhood, if there is any means of
485
Page
Quick Jump
|