he shoulder, and began to walk by his side.

"There, I thought I could make you understand," cried Punch eagerly.
"But you might say something. Ain't deaf and dumb, are you?"

The little priest shook his head, muttered to himself, and then, bending
down, he tapped his own leg, and looking questioningly in his would-be
guide's face, he began to limp.

"Yes, yes, yes!" cried Punch excitedly. And, imitating his companion,
he bent down, tapped his own leg, then limped as if walking with the
greatest of difficulty and made-believe to sink down helplessly.

"Good! I understand," said the little priest in Spanish. "Wounded.
Lead on."

Punch held out his hand, which the little stranger took, and suffered
himself to be led in the direction of the great chestnut, shaking his
head and looking questioningly more than once at the boy, as Punch
hesitated and seemed to be in doubt, and ran here and there trying to
make out his bearings, successfully as it happened, for he caught sight
at last of the object of his search, hurried back to the little priest's
side, to stand panting and faint, passing his hand over his dripping
face, utterly exhausted.

"Can't help it, sir," he said piteously. "I have been wounded. Just
let me get my breath, and then we will go on again. I am sure now. Oh,
I do wish I could make you understand better!" added the boy piteously.
"There's my poor comrade yonder, perhaps dying by this time, and me
turning like this!"

For just then he reeled and would have fallen if the little priest had
not caught him by the arms and lowered him slowly down.

"Thank you, sir," said Punch, with a sob half-choking his utterance.
"It's all on account of my wound, sir. There, I'm better now. Come
on."

He tried to struggle up, but the little priest shook his head and
pressed him back.

"Thank you, sir. It's very good of you; but I want to get on. He's
getting tired of waiting, you know." And Punch pointed excitedly in the
direction of the tree.

The journey was continued soon after, with Punch's arm locked in that of
his new-found friend; and in due time Punch staggered through the trees
to where Pen lay, now meeting his gaze with a wild look of misery and
despair.

"It's all right, comrade," cried Punch. "I have found somebody at last.
He must live somewhere near here, but I can't make him understand
anything, only that you were lying wounded. Did you think I had
forgotten you?"

"No," said Pen