you
would think it wouldn't be safe, and you would be afraid to speak for
fear they should come and bayonet me. And so I went on. Oh, I say,
comrade, it does make a chap feel queer to lie here without being able
to help hisself. I got to think at last that I wished I was dead and
out of my misery."

"Yes, Punch, lad, I know. It was very hard to bear, but I couldn't help
being so long. I was working for you--for both of us--all the time."

"Course you was, comrade! I know. And now you've come back, and it's
all right again. Give us another drink of water. It's better than
nothing--ever so much better, because there's plenty of it--and I shall
go to sleep and do as I did last night when I was so hungry--get
dreaming away about there being plenty of good things to eat. I seemed
to see a regular feast--roast-meat and fruit and beautiful white bread;
only it was as rum as rum. I kept on eating all the time, only nothing
seemed to have any taste in it. And, hooray! What did I say! There
she is! But," the boy added, his eager tones of delight seeming to die
away in despair, "she ain't brought no basket!"

For, eager and panting with her exertions, her eyes bright with
excitement, the peasant-girl suddenly dashed in through the open door,
caught Pen by the breast with one hand, and pointed with the other in
the direction from which she had come, as she whispered excitedly, "_Los
Franceses_!"

Then, loosening her grasp, she turned quickly to the boy and passed one
hand beneath his neck, signing to Pen to help her raise the wounded lad
from the bed, while Pen hurried to the door to look out.

"Yes," he whispered quickly, as he turned back, "she means the enemy are
coming, and wants me to carry you to a place of safety.--All right, my
lass; I understand.--Here, Punch, I won't hurt you more than I can help.
Clasp your hands round my neck, and I will carry you.--Here, girl, take
my rifle!"

He held out the piece, and the girl caught it in her hand, while Pen
drew his companion into a sitting position, stooped down, and turned his
back to the bed.

"All right; I won't squeak, comrade. Up with me. For'ard!"

But the boy could not control his muscles, the contractions in his face
showing plainly enough the agony he felt as with one quick movement Pen
raised himself, pressing the clinging hands to his breast, and swung the
poor fellow upon his back.

The girl nodded sharply, as, rifle in hand, she made for t