ow on earth Armand parted with you, and you
became attached to this new master, whom you seem to love with such
affection, I'm sure I cannot tell!"

Fritz at this moment turned in the little pallet bed on which he was
lying, and in an instant the girl was up from her seat and bending over
him.

"Restless?" she said, smoothing the pillows and laying her cool hand on
the hot brow of her patient, who gave vent to a sigh of satisfaction in
his sleep. "Ah! you'll be better bye-and-bye. Then, you will wake up
refreshed and have some nourishment; and then, too, you'll be able to
tell me all about yourself and master doggie here, eh?"

But, it was many days before poor Fritz was in a condition to offer any
explanation about the dog--many days, when the possibility was trembling
in the balance of fate as to whether he would ever speak again, or be
silent for aye in this world!

When he woke up, he was delirious; and the doctor, a grave German
surgeon of middle age, on coming into the room to examine him, when
making the rounds of the house--a villa in the suburbs of Mezieres,
which had been transformed into a sort of field hospital for the most
dangerous cases in the vicinity--declared Fritz to be in a very critical
state. His life, he said, was in serious peril, a change having taken
place for the worse.

He had been struck by a chassepot conical rifle bullet in the chest; and
the ball, after breaking two of his ribs and slightly grazing the lungs,
had lodged near the spine, where it yet remained, the wounded man being
too prostrate for an operation to be performed for its extraction,
although all the while it was intensifying the pain and adding to the
feverish symptoms of the patient.

"You've not been allowing him to talk, have you?" asked the surgeon,
scanning the girl's face with a stern professional glance.

"No," she replied, blushing slightly under his gaze; "that is, he wanted
to, an hour ago, when he became conscious, but I gave him the sleeping
draught you ordered at once."

"Donnerwetter!" exclaimed the other. "The potion then has done him harm
instead of good. I thought it would have composed him and made him
comfortable for the operation, as, until that bullet is taken out he
can't possibly get well. However, he must now be kept as quiet as
possible. Put a bandage on his head and make it constantly cool with
cold water. I will return bye-and-bye, and then we'll see about cutting
out the ball."