to
himself.--"Guvnor? Well, why not? I'm like being orficer's servant
now. There's something queer about him, as if he was a bit off his head
and it made him get up to larks; for he can't be--No, no, that's
impossible, even if it looks like it. He ain't the sorter chap to be
playing at sham Abram and make-believe because he was sick of fighting
and didn't want to run no more risks."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE DOCTOR IN A FANTIGUE.

Drummond returned to the hospital with his glass, and, to Mrs Sergeant
Gee's disgust, installed himself in the window and sat for a couple of
hours lightening the painful monotony of Bracy's imprisonment by
scanning the movements of the distant enemy hovering about in the hills,
and making comments thereon.

"Ah," he said at last, "what we want here is a company of gunners, with
light howitzers to throw shells a tremendous distance. If we could have
that cleverly and accurately done, we could soon scatter the beggars;
but as it is--"

"Yes, as it is," said Bracy peevishly, "we have no gunners and no
howitzers; and if we had, how could they be dragged about among these
hills?"

"It would be difficult," said Drummond. "There are some fellows
crawling out of that west ravine now. Wait till I've focussed them,
and--"

"No, no; don't do any more to-day," cried Bracy. "I can't bear it. You
only make me fretful because I can't be about doing something again."

"Of course it does; but what is it, old fellow? Are you in pain?"

"Pain? I'm in agony, Drummond. I can't sit up, for I seem to have no
power; and I can't lie still, because I feel as if there; was something
red-hot burning through my spine."

"Poor old chap! I say--think the bullet is still there?"

"No, no; it passed right through."

"What does the Doctor say?"

"Always the same--always the same: `You're getting better.'"

"That's right; so you are," said the Doctor, who had just come to the
door.--"Ah, Mr Drummond, you here?"

"Yes, sir. Cheering poor old Bracy up a bit."

"That's right. How's your wound?"

"Horrible nuisance, sir."

"Hum! ha! I should like to have; a look at it, but I suppose it would
not be etiquette. All the same, etiquette or no, if it does not begin
to mend soon come to me."

"I will, sir. Good-afternoon. Ta, ta, Bracy, old man. Keep up your
spirits."

"You needn't go, Mr Drummond," said the Doctor. "I can't stay many
minutes, and you can talk to him after I'm gone. We