l must be destroyed, as says the
learned Ambrose Pare; I ought therefore 'secareferro,'--that is to say,
take off the leg. May God grant that he survive the operation!"

While seeking his instruments, he looked the supposed brother full in the
face, and added--

"But how is it that you are carrying muskets in opposing armies, for I
see that you belong to us, while this poor fellow wears Spanish uniform?"

"Oh, that would be a long story to tell," replied the soldier, shaking
his head. "As for me, I followed the career which was open to me, and
took service of my own free will under the banner of our lord king, Henry
II. This man, whom you rightly suppose to be my brother, was born in
Biscay, and became attached to the household of the Cardinal of Burgos,
and afterwards to the cardinal's brother, whom he was obliged to follow
to the war. I recognised him on the battle-field just as he fell; I
dragged him out of a heap of dead, and brought him here."

During his recital this individual's features betrayed considerable
agitation, but the surgeon did not heed it. Not finding some necessary
instruments, "My colleague," he exclaimed, "must have carried them off.
He constantly does this, out of jealousy of my reputation; but I will be
even with him yet! Such splendid instruments! They will almost work of
themselves, and are capable of imparting some skill even to him, dunce as
he is!... I shall be back in an hour or two; he must rest, sleep, have
nothing to excite him, nothing to inflame the wound; and when the
operation is well over, we shall see! May the Lord be gracious to him!"

Then he went to the door, leaving the poor wretch to the care of his
supposed brother.

"My God!" he added, shaking his head, "if he survive, it will be by the
help of a miracle."

Scarcely had he left the room, when the unwounded soldier carefully
examined the features of the wounded one.

"Yes," he murmured between his teeth, "they were right in saying that my
exact double was to be found in the hostile army . . . . Truly one
would not know us apart! . . . I might be surveying myself in a
mirror. I did well to look for him in the rear of the Spanish army, and,
thanks to the fellow who rolled him over so conveniently with that
arquebus-shot; I was able to escape the dangers of the melee by carrying
him out of it."

"But that's not all," he thought, still carefully studying the tortured
face of the unhappy sufferer; "it