hand to call attention to
his order. The firing lessened, and seeing that he was understood he
turned away. At the moment he was not fifty feet from the flanking line,
and had moved far down the slope as one of the final shots rang out.
He felt something like a blow on his right temple, and as he staggered
was aware of the gush of blood down his face. "What fool did that?" he
exclaimed as he reeled and fell. He rose, fell, rose again, and managed
to tie a handkerchief around his head. He stumbled to the wall and lay
down, his head aching. He could go no further. "Queer, that," he
murmured; "they might have seen." He sat up; things around him were
doubled to his view.

"Are you hit?" said Haskell, who was directing stretcher-bearers and
sending prisoners to the rear.

"Not badly." He was giddy and in great pain. Then he was aware of the
anxious face of Josiah.

"My God! you hurt, sir? Come to look for you--can you ride? I fetched
Dixy--mare's killed."

"I am not badly hurt. Tighten this handkerchief and give me your
arm--I can't ride,"

He arose, and amazed at his weakness, dragged himself down the slope,
through the reforming lines, the thousands of prisoners, the reinforcing
cannon and the wreckage of the hillside. He fell on his couch, and more
at ease began to think, with some difficulty in controlling his thoughts.
At last he said, "I shall be up to-morrow," and lay still, seeing, as the
late afternoon went by, Grey Pine and Ann Penhallow. Then he was aware of
Captain Haskell and a surgeon, who dressed his wound and said, "It was
mere shock--there is no fracture. The ball cut the artery and tore the
scalp. You'll be all right in a day or two."

Penhallow said, "Please to direct my servant to the Sanitary Commission.
I think my friend, the Rev. Mark Rivers, is with them."

He slept none. It was early dawn when Rivers came in anxious and
troubled. For the first time in years of acquaintance he found Penhallow
depressed, and amazed because so small a wound made him weak and unable
to think clearly or to give orders. "And it was some stupid boy from our
line," he said.

His incapacity made Rivers uneasy, and although Penhallow broke out to
his surprise in angry remonstrance, he convinced him at last that he must
return to Grey Pine on sick leave. He asked no question about the army.
Insisting that he was too well to give up his command, nevertheless he
talked much of headache and lack of bodily power. He was,