ly, but forebore to
drink, and filling the tin he bore it to the Colonel, who lay just as he
had left him.

"Can you lift my head, boy?" he said. "Set down the tin."

Not an easy thing to do without spilling the water, but Dick succeeded,
and then managed with the Colonel's help to raise him a little so that
he could reach the water, of which he drank with avidity and was once
more lowered back, to lie faint and giddy for a few minutes, but he
recovered soon and said he was better, speaking so freely and kindly to
the boy that Dick took courage.

"I say," he said: "you've got such a dirty face."

"Have I, Dick?" said the Colonel, smiling. "Yes, it's all over
gunpowder, and all bloody. Shall I wash it?"

"Please, Dick, my boy," said the Colonel, and Dick took the tin to the
spring as carefully as before, after looking up and down the great
ravine, filled it, and this time had a good draught himself, and felt
hungry as he took the refilled tin back, set it down by the Colonel's
head, and then began to purse up his lips and think what he should do.

He was not long making up his mind, and tearing the lining out of his
damaged sleeve to soak in the water and use for a sponge.

"But I haven't a towel," he said.

"There's a clean handkerchief in the breast pocket of my coat," said the
Colonel, smiling. "Take it out."

"That hurt you?" said Dick, after unbuttoning the uniform and taking out
the carefully folded handkerchief just as Mrs Corporal Beane had
brought it to him from the wash.

"Yes, but not very much," said the Colonel. "Go on, it will be cool and
refreshing."

He was in great pain, but he lay smiling with a very kindly, fatherly
look at the clever little fellow, as Dick carefully washed away the
stains, having to go over the officer's face twice before it was quite
clean, after which he dried it, and knelt there looking at the bright
sword which was hanging by its golden knot to the Colonel's right arm.

"Shall I take that off before I wash your hands?" The Colonel nodded
and smiled in the same fatherly way as the boy unloosed the sword-knot,
laid the weapon close by and then washed and dried the wounded man's
hands.

"I say," said Dick then, "I can tear this handkerchief when it's dry.
Shall I tie up your cuts?"

"No," said the Colonel sadly: "they must wait till the Doctor comes,
Dick, if he ever does. They are not cuts, my boy, but bullet-holes, and
they have ceased to bleed. Now what i