lled locks over his face, was clotted
with blood. Blood also stained his hollow cheeks and covered the front
of his shirt, which, with the greater part of dress, was torn and soiled
with mud.

"Oh, Bill!" said I, with deep anxiety, "what is the matter with you? You
are ill. You must have been wounded."

"Even so, lad," said Bill in a deep soft voice, while he extended his
huge frame on the couch from which I had just risen. "I've got an ugly
wound, I fear, and I've been waiting for you to waken, to ask you to get
me a drop o' brandy and a mouthful o' bread from the cabin lockers. You
seemed to sleep so sweetly, Ralph, that I didn't like to disturb you. But
I don't feel up to much just now."

I did not wait till he had done talking, but ran below immediately, and
returned in a few seconds with a bottle of brandy and some broken
biscuit. He seemed much refreshed after eating a few morsels and
drinking a long draught of water mingled with a little of the spirits.
Immediately afterwards he fell asleep, and I watched him anxiously until
he awoke, being desirous of knowing the nature and extent of his wound.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, on awaking suddenly, after a slumber of an hour, "I'm
the better of that nap, Ralph; I feel twice the man I was;" and he
attempted to rise, but sank back again immediately with a deep groan.

"Nay, Bill you must not move, but lie still while I look at your wound.
I'll make a comfortable bed for you here on deck, and get you some
breakfast. After that you shall tell me how you got it. Cheer up,
Bill," I added, seeing that he turned his head away; "you'll be all right
in a little, and I'll be a capital nurse to you though I'm no doctor."

I then left him, and lighted a fire in the caboose. While it was
kindling, I went to the steward's pantry and procured the materials for a
good breakfast, with which, in little more than half an hour, I returned
to my companion. He seemed much better, and smiled kindly on me as I set
before him a cup of coffee and a tray with several eggs and some bread on
it.

"Now then, Bill," said I, cheerfully, sitting down beside him on the
deck, "let's fall to. I'm very hungry myself, I can tell you; but--I
forgot--your wound," I added, rising; "let me look at it."

I found that the wound was caused by a pistol shot in the chest. It did
not bleed much, and, as it was on the right side, I was in hopes that it
might not be very serious. But Bill shook his head