hing o' the kind, Serjint, for it would be
murther. This is my counthry, and I'm a prisoner of war."

"Let him be, Sergeant, and we'll get him into the camp.--Can you sit on
a horse, sir?" I said.

"Sure, how do I know, boy, till I thry? I've been lying under that dead
baste till I don't seem to have any legs at all, at all. Ye must lift
me on."

"Officer and a gentleman!" said the Sergeant scornfully. "I never heard
an Irish gentleman with a brogue like that. I believe you're one of the
rowdy sort that call themselves patriots."

"Sure, and I am," cried our prisoner. "But here, I don't want any
wurruds with the like o' ye.--Help me up gently, boy, and let me see if
I can't shtand."

"Take hold of him on the other side," I said to the Sergeant, and he
frowningly helped, so that we got our prisoner upon his feet.

"Ah!" he said, with a groan. "I think I can manage it if ye lift me on
a horse."

Sandho was led up, and with a good deal of difficulty and a repetition
of groans and allusions to the state of his lower members, the Captain
was hoisted into the saddle, and after another draught of water he
declared that he could "howld" out till we got him to the "docthor."

"He doesn't look as if he could try to make a bolt of it," growled the
Sergeant; "but you'd better throw the reins over your horse's head and
lead him.--And look here, Mr Officer and Gentleman, I'm very good with
the revolver, so don't try to spur off."

Our prisoner waved his hand contemptuously and turned to me.

"Sure, me wound and me fall put it all out of me head; but I had a man
with me when I was hit, and we were cut off in the fight."

"Yes," I said; "the poor fellow lies close here--dead."

"Thin lade the horse round another way, boy. I don't want to look at
the poor lad. Ah! I don't fale so faint now. To think of me bad luck,
though. Shot down like this, and not in battle, but hunting a gang of
wagon-thieves."

"Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha!" roared the Sergeant, slapping his thigh again
and again as he laughed. "Come, I like that, Mr Moray.--Here, Mr
Captain, let me introduce you to the gentleman who so cleverly carried
off your stores last night."

I was scarlet with indignation at being called a cattle-thief, and
turned angrily away.

"What!" said the prisoner; "him? Did--did he--did--But Moray--Moray?
Sure, I thought I knew his face again. Here, I arrest ye as a thraitor
and a deserter from the commando, boy;" and