his impression was substantiated
when a halt was called just about the time of dawn, for Pen dropped like
a log by the wagon-side; and when Punch, with great pain to himself,
struggled into a sitting position, and then clambered down to his
comrade, he found to his horror that his worst fears were realised.

Pen's forehead was burning, and the poor lad was muttering incoherently,
and not in a condition to pay heed to the words of his companion.

"Gray, Gray! Can't you hear? What's wrong?"

The village which was the new headquarters was higher up in the
mountains; and whether it was the fresher air operating beneficially, or
whether the period of natural recovery had arrived, certain it was that
Punch found himself able to move about again; and during the days and
weeks that followed he it was who took the post of nurse and attended to
the wants of Pen--wants, alas! too few, for the sufferer was a victim to
something worse than a mere shot-wound susceptible to efficient
dressing, for the most dangerous, perhaps, of all fevers had laid him
low.

The period passed as in a long dream, and the thought of rejoining the
British column had for a time ceased to animate Punch's brain.

But youth and a strong constitution rose superior in Pen's case to all
the evils of circumstance and environment, and one afternoon the old
clear look came back to his eyes.

"Ah, Punch," he said, "better?"

"Better?" said the boy. "I--I am well; but you--how are you now?"

"I--have I been ill?"

"Ill!" cried Punch, and he turned and looked at an orderly who was
hurrying past. "He asks if he has been ill!--Why, Pen, you have had a
fever which has lasted for weeks."

Pen tried to sit up, and he would have dismally failed in the attempt
had not Punch encircled him with his arm.

"Why--why," he said faintly, "I am as weak as weak!"

"Yes, that you are."

"But, Punch, what has been happening?"

"I don't know. I can't understand what all these people say; but they
let me fetch water for them and attend to you; and to-day there has been
a lot going on--troops marching past."

"Yes," said Pen; "that means there has been another fight."

"No, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Because I have heard no firing. But hadn't you better go to sleep
again?"

Pen smiled, but he took the advice and lay back.

"Perhaps I had," he said faintly; and as Punch watched him he fell into
a restful doze.

So it was during the days that follow