!Tention Part 26

Later on a couple more wounded men had been borne in by the light of a lantern, by whose aid a place was found for them in the already too crowded hut, and it became Pen's duty to hold the dim open lantern and cast the light so that a busy surgeon, who was already exhausted by his long and terrible duties, could do his best to bandage and stop some wound.

It was just at daylight, in the midst of the terrible silence which had now fallen around, that Pen's head had sunk slowly down till it rested upon Punch's shoulder; and when the sun rose at last its horizontal rays lit up the dismal scene, with the elder lad's pallid and besmirched face, consequent upon the help he had been called upon to render, giving him the appearance of being one of the wounded men.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

WAR'S HORRORS.

But the morning brought not only the horizontal rays of the great sun which lit up the hut with its sad tale of death and suffering, but likewise a renewal of the fight of the previous day, and this time the tide of battle swept much nearer to the encampment of the wounded.

Punch started out of a state of dreamy calm, and wondered why the noise he heard had not roused up his sleeping comrade, for from apparently quite near at hand came the boom of artillery, a sound which for the moment drowned all others, even the hoa.r.s.e, harshly uttered words of command, as large bodies of men swung past the doorway of the hut, and the fitful bugle-calls which a minute before had fallen on his ear.

"Ah," he muttered, "it's a big fight going on out there. I wonder if those are our guns;" and once more the air was rent by the dull, angry roar of artillery. "Pen! Pen! Oh, I can't let him sleep! Why doesn't he wake up? Here, I say, comrade!"

"Eh, what is it?" And Pen opened his eyes, to gaze wonderingly at Punch's excited face.

"Don't you hear?"

"Hear? Yes, yes," And the dreamy look vanished from the other's eyes.

The two lads waited, listening, and then Punch put his lips close to Pen's ear.

"I am sure we are winning," he said. "Hear that?"

"How can I help hearing it?"

"Well, it's English guns, I know."

"Think so?"

"Yes, and they will be here soon."

Pen shook his head.

"Afraid not," he said; "and--Ah, all right.--Punch, lad, I'm wanted."

For just then a man came hurriedly into the hut and made him a sign.

"What does he want?" grumbled Punch.

"It's the surgeon," said Pen, and he hurried away.

For some hours--long, hot, weary hours--Punch saw little of his fellow-prisoner, the morning wearing on and the atmosphere of the hovel becoming unbearably close, while all the time outside in the brilliant sunshine, evidently just on the other side of a stretch of purple hilly land, a battle was in progress, the rattle of musketry breaking into the heavy volume of sound made by the field-guns, while every now and again on the sun-baked, dusty stretch which lay beyond the doorway, where the shadows were dark, a mounted man galloped past.

"Wish my comrade would come back," he muttered; and it was long ere his wish was fulfilled. But the time came at last, and Pen was standing there before him, holding in his hands a tin drinking-cup and a piece of bread.

"Take hold," he said hoa.r.s.ely, looking away.

"Where you been?" said Punch.

"Working in the ambulance. I--I--" And Pen staggered, and sat down suddenly on the ground.

"What's the matter? Not hit?"

"No, no."

"Had anything yourself?"

"Bother!" said Pen. "Make haste. Toss off that water. I want the cup."

"Had anything yourself?" repeated Punch firmly.

"Well, no."

"Then I sha'n't touch a drop until you have half and take some of that bread."

"But--"

"It's no good, Pen. I sha'n't and I won't--so there!"

Pen hesitated.

"Very well," he said; "half." And he drank some of the water. "It's very good--makes one feel better," and he ate a morsel or two of bread.

"I had a job to get it."

"What did that fellow want?" asked Punch as he attacked his share.

"Me to help with the wounded," said Pen huskily. "So you thought me long?"

"Course I did. But the wounded--are there many?"

"Heaps," said Pen. "But don't talk so loudly."

"Poor chaps," said Punch, "they can't hear what we say. How are things going? There, they are at it again."

"I think the French are giving ground," said Pen in a whisper.

"Hooray!"

"Hush!"

"What, mayn't I say hooray?"

"No, you mayn't. I have picked up a little since I went away. I fancy our men have been coming on to try and take this village, but I couldn't make out much for the smoke; and, besides, I have been with that surgeon nearly all the time."

"Yes," said Punch. "Well, will they do it?"

Pen shook his head.