It was in the early morning on the day when the battle of Hehnsdorff was
fought, and Max's regiment, with two others of the line, were sent to
occupy the village on the right bank of the river. For hours they
defended it with the tenacity of despair. At last, the general, seeing
that it was hopeless to continue to hold it, despatched an aide with an
order to the officer in command to abandon it and to fall back upon a
wood some three-quarters of a mile or so to the rear. The aide had
scarcely entered the main street of the little hamlet, when a shell
burst in the road, killing his horse and tearing a great gaping wound in
the young fellow's side. Seeing what had happened, Max, who, with
Bertram and several others, was in a cottage close at hand, ran to his
assistance. It was a shocking spectacle they had before them, but,
despite the blood, Max recognised the man. Picking him up as tenderly as
possible, he bore him to the cottage where the commander was located.

The poor fellow had just strength enough left to say, "The general bids
you retire, and take up your position in the wood behind the church,"
when his head fell forward and he fainted. A moment later the order was
given, the village was vacated, and the troops were slowly and sullenly
retiring in the direction indicated. The aide-de-camp still lay where
they had placed him, his life-blood slowly ebbing from him and forming a
pool by his side.

"He's a man I've known all my life," said Max hoarsely to Bertram. "I
can't leave him here. Between us we'll carry him to the rear, though I
fear the surgeons can do nothing for him."

Thus encumbered they set off across the open ground, now being ploughed
by the shells of the enemy. How it was they were not hit it is
impossible to say, yet, incredible as it may appear, they reached the
wood in safety. On the further side the surgeons were at work, and
thither they bore the dying man. But officer or no officer, it was
necessary that he should wait his turn, and seeing this, Max placed him
upon the ground and endeavoured to make him as comfortable as possible.
That his case was hopeless there could be no sort of doubt. Indeed, he
was little more than a dead man as it was. Rising to his feet, for he
had been kneeling beside the other, Max was about to return to where his
comrades had taken up their position, when the wounded man opened his
eyes and looked up at him. Max saw that he was trying to speak, and he
accordingl