"
"I was wounded only when every thing was lost," sighed the other. "A
member of the accursed imperial guard struck me down."
"I hope you gave him a receipt in full for your wounds?" asked the
officer, while tenderly washing the wound with the water he had brought
along in the broken jar.
The other officer looked up to him with flashing eyes.
"I gave him a receipt which he has already shown to God Himself," he
said, "provided there is a God for these accursed French. My sword cleft
his skull, but I fell together with him."
"Your wound here in the forehead is of no consequence," said the
officer; "the stroke only cut the skin. Let us put this moistened
handkerchief on it."
"Oh, now I am better," said the other; "now that the wound burns less
painfully, I feel that life is circulating again through all my veins."
"And what about your arm?"
"A lancer pierced it. I hope he was kind enough not to touch the bone,
so that the arm need not be amputated. It is true, it pains severely;
but, you see, I can move it a little, which proves that it is not
shattered. Now, comrade, do me still another favor--assist me in
rising."
"Here, lean firmly on me. There! I will lift you up--now you are on your
legs again. Lean on me still, for you might become dizzy."
"No, I shall not. I feel again well and strong enough to take the burden
of life on my shoulders.
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