CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.
THE SURGEON'S WORDS.
"Bad enough, poor fellow; but I think I can pull them both round.Nothing vital, you see, touched, and these Mauser bullets makewonderfully clean wounds!"
"And the other?"
"Bad flesh-wounds--great loss of blood. I just got at that artery intime."
West heard these words spoken by someone whose head kept getting in hisway as he lay staring up at the great bright stars directly overhead,and it seemed very tiresome.
He tried to speak and ask whoever it was to move aside; but his tonguewould not stir, and he lay perfectly still, trying to think what it allmeant, and in a dull far-off sort of way it gradually dawned upon himthat the people near him were talking about the Boers he had somehow oranother and for some reason shot down.
Then, as he thought, the calm feeling he was enjoying grew troubled, andhe began to recall the fact that he had been shooting somebody's poniesto supply somebody else with food, and that he must have been mad, forhe felt convinced that they would not be nice eating, as he had heardthat the fat was oily and the flesh tasted sweet. Besides which, itwould be horrible to have to eat horseflesh at a time when his throatwas dry with an agonising thirst. Then the terrible thought forceditself upon him that while shooting down ponies he had missed them andkilled men instead, and once more all was blank.
The next time the power of thinking came to the poor fellow all was verydark, and a jarring pain kept running through him, caused by the motionof his hard bed, which had somehow grown wheels and was being draggedalong.
Cattle were lowing and sheep bleating. There were shouts, too, such ashe knew were uttered by Kaffir drivers, and there were the crackings oftheir great whips.
After a while he made out the trampling of horses and heard men talking,while in an eager confused way he listened for what they would say aboutthose two wounded Boers, one of whom had nearly bled to death beforethat artery was stopped. These, he felt, must be the Boers he shot whenhe ought to have shot ponies.
And as he got to that point the trouble of thinking worried his brain sothat he could think no more, and again all was blank.
At last came a morning when West woke up in a great room which seemed tobe familiar. There were nurses moving about in their cleanwhite-bordered dresses, and he knew that he was in some place fitted upas a hospital. Several of the occupants of the beds wore bandagessuggestive of bad wounds, and to help his thoughts there came from timeto time the dull heavy reports of cannon.
He did not recollect all that had preceded his coming yet; but hegrasped the fact that he had been wounded and was now in hospital.
He lay for a few minutes with his brain growing clearer and clearer, andat last, seeing one of the nurses looking in his direction, he tried toraise one hand, but could not. The other proved more manageable, and inobedience to a sign the nurse came, laid a hand upon his forehead, andsmiled down in his face.
"Your head's cooler!" she said. "You're better?"
"Yes," he replied: "have I been very bad?"
"Terribly! We thought once that you would not recover."
"And Ingleborough?"
"Ingleborough? Oh, you mean your companion who was brought in withyou?"
West nodded: he could not speak.
"Well, I think he will get better now!"
"But his wound: is it so bad?"
"He nearly bled to death; but you must not talk much yet."
"Only a little!" said West eagerly. "Pray tell me, he will get better?"
"Oh yes: there's no doubt about it, I believe."
"Oh, thank goodness!" cried West fervently. "But what place is this?"
"This? Why, Kimberley, of course!"
"Ah!" cried West excitedly, and his hand went to his breast. "Myjacket!"
"Your jacket?" said the nurse. "Oh, that was all cut and torn, andsoaked with blood. I think it has been burnt."
"What!" cried West. "Oh, don't say that!"
"Hush, hush! What is this?" said a deep, stern voice. "Patientdelirious, nurse?"
A quiet, grave-looking face was bent over West's pillow, and the poorfellow jumped at the idea that this must be the surgeon.
"No, sir; no, sir!" he whispered excitedly, catching at the new-comer'sarm. "I am better: it is only that I am in trouble about my clothes."
"Clothes, eh?" said the doctor, smiling. "Oh, you will not want clothesfor two or three weeks yet."
"Not to dress, sir," whispered West excitedly; "but I must have myjacket. It is important!"
"Why?" said the surgeon, laying his hand upon the young man's browsoothingly.
"I was bringing on a despatch from Mafeking when I was shot down, sir,"whispered West excitedly.
"It was sewn up for safety in the breast."
"Indeed?" said the doctor, laying his fingers on the lad's pulse andlooking keenly in his eyes.
"Yes, sir, indeed!" said West eagerly. "I know what I am saying, sir."
"Yes, you are cool now; but I'm afraid the jacket will have been burnedwith other garments of the kind. Of course, the contents of the pocketswill have been preserved."
"Oh, they are nothing, sir," cried West piteously. "It is a letter sewnup in the breast that I want. It is so important!"
"Well, I'll see!" said the doctor gravely, and, signing to the nurse whohad been in attendance, he left the ward, with West in a state offeverish anxiety.
At last, to West's intense satisfaction, the horribly blood-stainedgarment was brought in, and his hand went out trembling to catch it bythe breast, fully expecting to find the missive gone.
"Yes," he cried wildly, "it is here!"
"Hah!" cried the doctor, and, taking out his knife, he prepared to slitit up, but West checked him.
"No," he panted: "the Commandant. Send for him here!"
"My good lad, he is so busy, he would not come! Let me cut out themessage and send it to him."
"No," said West firmly; "I will not part from it till he comes."
"But really--"
"Tell him a wounded messenger from Mafeking has a letter for him, and hewill come."
West was right: the magic word Mafeking brought the Commandant to hisbedside; and as soon as he came up he stopped short and made what littleblood poor West had left flush to his face, for he cried:
"Hullo! Why, it is our illicit-diamond-dealer! I thought we were neverto see you again!"
"It is not true!" cried West. "The man who denounced me lied!"
"Then you have been to Mafeking?"
"Yes, sir: Mr Ingleborough and I."
"And brought back a despatch?"
"Yes, sir: here it is!"
"Where?" said the Commandant, glancing down at the stained tunic on thebed.
"Open it now, sir," said West to the doctor, who took out his knifeagain, slit the cloth, and drew out the big letter, terribly soaked withits bearer's blood.
"Bravo! Brave messenger!" cried the Commandant, grasping West's handbefore tearing open the packet and finding enough of the despatchunstained to allow him to decipher the principal part of the text."Hah!" he cried, when he had finished, "on the whole good news; but," hecontinued, glancing at the date, "you have been a long time coming."
"Have I, sir? We lost no time!"
"The poor fellow has been lying here for a fortnight, sir," said thesurgeon.
"A fortnight ago? Why, that was the day when the reconnoitring partyreturned with the captured sheep and cattle. Yes, I remember now: theyhad a brush with the Boers up the river. Of course, yes: they wereattracted by the firing, and saved two young Englishmen. You are one ofthem?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well done, then! Our raiding party did good work, though they did havea desperate fight afterwards to get through the Boer lines. Gettingbetter?"
"Yes, sir," said West, with a sigh of relief: "now that I have got mydespatch safely into your hands!"
"But what about your bad character?"
"
It was a false accusation, sir!" cried West indignantly. "The man whodenounced me was the criminal himself."
"Well, you have done your duty so truly that I believe you in preferenceto him."
"But I shall be able to fully clear myself, sir, soon, for this man is aprisoner now with the cavalry brigade. Has that come into the town yet,sir, with the prisoners, guns, and the convoy they captured?"
"Hah!" cried the Commandant: "this is news indeed! Has the brigadecaptured all you say?"
"Yes, sir," said West, and he told all that had taken place up to thetime of he and Ingleborough being cut off and chased by the Boers.
"We knew nothing of this!" said the Commandant. "We are prisonersourselves; but your news gives us hope of a speedy release, for theGeneral is not one to let the grass grow under his feet."
"He is not, sir!" said West. "Then you shall bring me and the man whoaccused me face to face."
"The sooner the better, my lad!" said the Commandant warmly. "How soonwill he be up, doctor?"
"Within a fortnight, I hope, sir!" was the reply.
"Then goodbye for the present, my lad!" said the Commandant. "Yourlong-delayed despatch will send a thrill of hope through all here inKimberley, for it breathes nothing but determination to hold the Boersat bay."
"May I say one word more, sir?" said West excitedly.
"What do you think, doctor?"
"He has said enough, sir, and if he talks much more we shall have thefever back. Well, perhaps he'll fret if he does not get something offhis mind."
"What is it, then?" said the Commandant.
"I had a brave comrade to ride with the despatch, sir."
"To be sure, yes, I remember. What about him? Not killed, I hope?"
"No, sir, but badly wounded, and lying somewhere here."
"Poor fellow! I must see him. There must be promotion for you both."
"If you would see him, sir, and speak to him as you have spoken to me,"said West, with the weak tears rising to his eyes.
"Of course, yes! There, shake hands, my lad: you have done splendidly!Don't worry about the diamond charge! I can feel that it was acontemptible lie! Now, doctor, take me to your other patient."
"Ha!" sighed West, nestling back on his pillow with a calm look ofcontent in his eyes, which closed directly after for a sleep that lastedten hours at the least.