Of course, it has
been the same with us all, and the heat has made it very trying. I
am particularly anxious to get the wounded well out of the place,
for now that the excitement is over I expect an outbreak of fever
or dysentery.
"There, that is your man in the corner bed over there."
Mallett went over to the bedside, and looked at the wounded man.
His face was drawn and pinched, his eyes sunken in his head, his
face deadly pale, and his hair matted with perspiration.
"Do you know me, Captain Mallett?"
"No, lad, I cannot say that I do, though when the doctor told me
your name it seemed familiar to me. Very likely I should have
recognised you if I had met you a week since, but, you see, we are
both altered a good deal from the effect of our wounds."
"I am the son of Farmer Lechmere, your tenant."
"Good heavens! man. You don't mean to say you are Lechmere's eldest
son, George! What in the world brought you to this?"
"You did," the man said, sternly. "Your villainy brought me here."
Frank Mallett gave a start of astonishment that cost him so violent
a twinge in his wound that he almost cried out with sudden pain.
"What wild idea have you got into your head, my poor fellow?" he
said soothingly.
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