o liven drooping
spirits, and raise falling hopes.

Slowly and surely he began to take stock of the situation. First of all
came his head. The pain of the wound was an ache, a dull ache that
sharpened into shooting pains if he moved. Still, he told himself that
it might be worse. There was much worse pain in the world. It could not
be called unbearable or excruciating.

His spine seemed in some way twisted. It ached with an insistence and
annoyance only second to the wound. All his most determined efforts to
wriggle it straight failed lamentably. Indeed, he almost fancied that
they made matters worse.

As for the paralysed limbs, theirs was a negative trouble. He did not
know where his right hand was. He had to grope about with his left hand
under coats to find it. And when found, it was as if he had grasped
somebody else's hand. The situation was weird, and in an uncanny way it
amused and pleased him to take hold of the inert fingers. They were so
soft and cold. The hand of a dead man, heavy, heavy--impossible to
describe the dragging, inert weight of it.

But what frightened him more than anything was his face. One side was
drawn up, and was as impossible to move as the arm. The lower jaw seemed
clamped to the upper, and it, too, ached. A horrible fear crept into his
head.

"Tetanus!"

He recalled tales of the terrible end of those who were marked down by
this terrible disease. How they died in awful agony, the spine bent
backwards like a bridge!

In spite of the coats, the cold seemed to eat into his very heart.

He started the night bravely enough, and fought against his troubles
until his nerve collapsed hopelessly. The night was too long: it was too
much to bear. He groaned aloud in his agony, and discovered that it was
an immense relief.

The men near him began to open fire. If it were really an attack, it was
soon beaten down, and he began to shriek at them for wasting precious
ammunition that they might want when it was too late. He used words that
he never even knew that he knew. Great bursts of anger, he found,
distracted his attention from the pain, if only for a few moments. To
this end he worked himself into such a transport that the bleeding
re-commenced, and he was forced to cease, exhausted. In another hour
his nervous downfall was completed. He began to cry.

Each second of the interminable night dragged slowly by, as if it
gloated over his pain. In the end it became too much for him and h