g), I could not, and did not, repent the deed. But I had not time
given me to analyse my feelings; a sensation of faintness rapidly crept
over me. The fact was that I had been bleeding profusely; and while the
surgeon and the others were still hanging over the expiring adjutant, I
dropped and fell fainting on the ground. When I recovered I found
myself in bed, and attended on by the surgeon, the master, and Bob
Cross.

"Keep quiet, Keene," said the surgeon, "and all will be well; but keep
quiet, that we may have no fever. Here, drink this, and try if you
cannot go to sleep." They raised me up, and I swallowed the mixture; my
head was so confused, and I was so weak, that I felt as if I hardly
dared breathe, lest my breath should leave my body, and I was glad to
find myself again on the pillow. I was soon in a sound seep, from which
I did not arouse for many hours, and, as I afterwards was told, had had
a very narrow escape, from the exhaustion arising from the excessive
haemorrhage.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I could scarcely recall my
senses. I saw Bob Cross sometimes, and I heard moaning and talking. I
thought the latter was my own voice, but it was Captain Delmar, whose
fever still continued, and who was in an alarming state. It was not
till the evening, twenty-four hours after the duel, that I could
completely recall my senses; then I did, and motioned to Cross that I
wanted drink. He gave me some lemonade--it was nectar; he then went out
for the surgeon, who came to the bedside, and felt my pulse.

"You'll do now, my boy," said he; "get another good sleep to-night, and
to-morrow morning you will have nothing to do but to get well."

"Where am I hit?" said I.

"You had a ball in your shoulder and another in your hip, but they are
both extracted; the one in the hip cut through a large vein, and the
haemorrhage was so great before you could be brought here, that at one
time I thought you were gone. Your life hung upon a thread for hours;
but we may thank God that all is right now. You have no fever, and your
pulse is getting strong again."

"How's the captain, sir?"

"As bad as bad can be just now; but I have hopes of a change for the
better."

"And Captain W, sir?"

"Poor fellow! he is dead; and has so decidedly proved that his fever was
not a sham, the soldiers are a little ashamed of themselves--and so they
ought to be; but too often good feelings come too late. Now, Keene, you