In answer to the call made upon him—a tremendous call at such a time—Dick carefully removed the captain’s jacket, soaked with blood, back and breast telling plainly enough the kind of wound with which he had to deal; and, as it was drawn and ripped off, there was a sharp rap upon the floor, from which Wyatt stooped to pick up a ragged jezail bullet, which, discharged at so short a distance, had passed right through the poor fellow’s chest.

Wyatt looked at Dick inquiringly.

“I am not doctor enough to know,” whispered the lad. “I can only plug and bind the wounds. A vital part may not be touched.”

Wyatt’s lip quivered slightly under his great moustache, but he said nothing, only looked on, while one of the men proved himself an able aid in producing lint and bandages from the doctor’s valise.

“See to the doctor next,” said Wyatt in a low voice. “I must leave you directly.”

“Yes,” said Dick; and as soon as his first patient was finished he turned to the doctor, who was just recovering from his swoon.

He smiled wistfully at Dick as the lad approached his bed and looked at him inquiringly.

“Badly hurt,” he said. “Back of my head and across my side. The fellow cut at me like lightning, but the sergeant ran him through.”

“Don’t talk much,” said Dick, “but guide me, and tell me what to do.”

“You know as well as I can tell you, Mr Darrell,” the surgeon answered bluntly. “I saw part of what you did for the captain. Most unfortunate—most unfortunate,” he murmured, and he fainted again from loss of blood.

Just then the sergeant came in quickly, and made for Wyatt to deliver his report, the heavy firing endorsing all he said.

“Rajah in safe, sir, with the greater part of his men; others made off together, with enemy in pursuit. They’ve got the gates closed, and the guns at work sweeping the bridge, and the Rajah says there is no need for you to send help.”

“You saw the Rajah to speak to, then?”

“Oh, yes, sir. I went straight to the side of his elephant. He says the engagement is over for to-day, and the enemy beaten off.”

“Humph!” growled Wyatt. “Seems more like our being beaten in.”

“Yes, sir. He said, too, that he should like to see Captain Hulton as soon as he could come.”

“Then he will have to wait some time,” muttered Wyatt. “Here, stay with Mr Darrell, Sergeant. Do all you can to help him, and then see to the men who are well enough being moved. We must have another room for them.”

Wyatt stepped to the wounded men, said a few encouraging words to them, and then, telling his brother-officer he would be back as soon as possible, he went out to see to the prospects of defence, in case the enemy should obtain a lodgment in the city.

“What can I do, sir?” said the sergeant, crossing to where his young officer was busy with the wounded men.

“Anything, Stubbs. Hold this poor fellow up while I see to his wound.”

“Right, sir. Who is it? Oh, it’s you, Dundas.—Slit the linen right down, sir; that’s the way.—How are you, my lad?”

“Bit sicky, Sergeant.—’Tar’n’t much, is it, sir?”

“I hope not,” said Dick. “The bullet is embedded in the muscles of the back. I will not attempt to extract it—only stop the bleeding.”

“Pretty sort of a fellow you are, Joe Dundas, to get a wound like that,” said the sergeant, holding a brass basin of water for the amateur surgeon to use. “I should be ashamed of it!”

“I am, Sergeant,” said the man, smiling.

“Let it be a lesson to you, my lad. Never turn your back to the enemy. Always show ’em your face.”

“Shouldn’t keep our guns long if we did, Sergeant,” said the man grimly.

“Do I hurt you?” said Dick.

“Well, it isn’t what one might call pleasant, sir. Not the sort of thing a man would choose to amuse him.”

“But you can bear it?”

“Oh, yes, sir, I can bear it.”

“Because I find I can touch the bullet, and it will be better out.”

“Out with it, then, sir,” said the sergeant; “Joe won’t mind. Nasty ragged kind of bullets these are which they fire from their matchlocks, and they irritate.”

“That hurt you, Dundas?”

“Yes, sir; but you go on,” replied the man, who had winced from the pain he suffered.

“Yes, go on, sir,” growled the sergeant. “You’re too easy with him. He’s a man—not a gal. Never mind making him squeak. Our last surgeon used to say it did good and set up a healthy action.”

“Hah!” whispered the man through his set teeth. “That was sharp, sir.”

“Yes, but I’ve got the bullet,” said Dick.—“Now, Sergeant, bathe away, and the wound will soon heal.”

“Oh, yes.—You needn’t lie up, Joe, my lad.”

“Not going to, Sergeant.”

“You can sit out in the yard for a few days and smoke your pipe, or go in and talk to the horses. And, if I was you, I should let one of the fellows in the bazaar drill a hole through that bullet and put a bit of gold wire through it, so that you can wear it on your watch-chain.”

“Yes,” said the man gravely.—“Been awkward, I s’pose, sir, if it had gone a bit farther?”

“Very,” said Dick, who could not help feeling amazed at the calm way in which the stalwart gunner seemed to trust him.

“Heart, sir?”

“I think so.”

“Ah, you’d know, sir,” said the man. “It’s a lucky thing for us chaps that you joined.”

“Why?” said Dick, who was busy with a bandage.

“Well, sir, you see, you can lead and fight and at the same time you was born a doctor—so I’ve heared.”

Dick laughed. “There,” he said, finishing his task. “Now lie on your side, and go to sleep if you can. I hope Doctor Robson will soon be well enough to see to you.”

“Thank ye, sir; but I mean to be well before he is,” said the man cheerily.

Dick attended man after man with his assistants till they came to the last, who was lying on a charpoy with his face averted.

“Now, my lad,” said the sergeant, “your turn. Yours a bullet too?”

The man slowly turned a face blackened with sweat and gunpowder, and looked up in a dazed way at the speaker.

“Bob Hanson!” cried the sergeant. “Why, I didn’t know you were one of the men hit.”

“Yes, Sergeant, I’ve got it this time,” said the man grimly.

“Well, I’m sorry, my lad, for I never saw a gun better served than yours was to-day. Bullet in the back?”

“Two,” said the man slowly. “I was hit twice before we got to the middle of the river.”

The wounds were painful, but they were superficial, the bullets having glanced from the rib-bones, and with care it only meant a fortnight in hospital, as Dick was able to announce; and while he was busy over the bandaging, the sergeant looked on, frowning. Hanson bore what must have been intense pain without flinching, and the young officer mused as he worked upon the strange accident which had brought this man completely helpless under his hands.

He was just finishing when Wyatt returned, to approach the beds and speak a word or two with each of the wounded.

“Painful, but not serious,” he said, repeating Dick’s words. “I’m very glad, my lads, for we can’t spare you.”

He laid his hand on Dick’s shoulder, and walked with him to the window.

“Thank you, my lad,” he said gravely. “We must drop the boy now, Dick, and accept this big responsibility.”

“We?” said Dick.

“Yes, we! I’ve got the burden of all this suddenly thrust upon my shoulders, and I feel that I must have help. Hulton will be fit for nothing this side of a month.”

“Well, look at me with my responsibility. I never before felt so much like an impudent boy as I have done this last hour, playing surgeon with these wounded men.”

“Not much play in it, Dick, lad,” said Wyatt sadly. “Well, little un, we’re in for it, and we’ve got it to do. I know you’ll stand by me like a man.”

“Yes, like a man,” said Dick, “but only as a boy.”

“Never mind that. Now tell me—poor old Hulton will get better?”

“I think so; but he has a bad wound, and ought to have proper treatment.”

“Don’t worry about that, lad. You will be able to get bits of advice soon from Robson, and put them into practice. Then you’ve got nature to help you, and she’s a grand nurse when her patients are healthy men, so don’t let what you have to do worry you. Things will come right. Now I want to talk. I have seen the Rajah.”

“Ah! what does he say?”

“All cock-a-hoop. Ready to hug me. He says he never saw anything so grand as the way in which we pursued his enemies. It will be a lesson to the Rajah of Singh that he will never forget, he says.”

“But we were beaten.”

“Yes, he owns that; but, as he says justly, his enemies were four times as strong, and though he has lost some of his men, the enemy have done nothing. The city is safe, and strong enough to set Singh at defiance. Horsemen are of no use against stone walls, and there is an abundance of stores and plenty of water, so that he has nothing to fear but treachery.”

“Treachery?”

“Yes; he says he has so many people about him that he dare not trust. Finally, he says he looks to us to keep him safe upon the throne.”

“To us! The English—the Company?”

“No, to us—you and me.”

Dick laughed.

“Ah, you may grin, my lad; but he means it. He told me he had taken a fancy to you.”

“Means nothing,” said Dick. “These Indians are all smiles and flattery.”

“Some of them, but I don’t think this Rajah is a humbug. He has seen a good deal of our people, and he is very downright. He told me he was sorry to hear that so brave an officer as Hulton was wounded, but that he did not take to him much, for he was too haughty and supercilious to him.”

“Yes,” said Dick thoughtfully, “Hulton was a bit stand-offish to him.”

“Yes; that’s his way, poor fellow. The Rajah said that though he was in trouble, and we belonged to the conquering race, he still felt that he was a king, and Hulton seemed to look down upon him.”

“He said all that?”

“Every bit, in other words. And here’s what I liked, Dick. He said all that he knew of me was from seeing me in the field with the men, but he felt that I was a brave English gentleman.”

“Hear, hear! So you are.”

“Don’t be a fool, Dick,” said Wyatt shortly; “this is serious.”

“Well, I was never more serious in my life.”

“Gammon! And he said that if I would stick to him—”

“That he didn’t,” said Dick. “Not an Eastern style of expression.”

“Get out! You know what I mean—that if I’d stand by him well with the men, I should find him a very true friend.”

“And what did you say?”

“Only that we were sent to do our duty, and that we’d stick to him like trumps.”

“Did you explain to him what a trump was?” said Dick dryly.

“No, I didn’t; but I shook hands as if I meant it; and he made a face, for I gave him a grip such as he isn’t used to, for my paws are rather heavy, and he has a hand thin and soft as a girl’s.”

“Poor fellow!” said Dick. “I’ve felt that squeeze of yours. Regular walnut-crusher. Was that all?”

“No; I began to find fault with his majesty about what happened to-day, and pointed out what he ought to have done.”

“How did he take it?”

“He smiled, and said I was quite right, but that out here they are not used to fighting like we do: that his men could tight like furies behind stone walls or in hand-to-hand lighting on horseback, but we had shown him to-day what might be done: and he ended by saying. ‘Stand by me, and help me.’”

“And you?”

“Well, I said we would; but I don’t like it, Dick.”

“Why?”

“Because, as I’ve said before, we’re out of place.”

“We weren’t this morning.”

“No, not out on the plain, but towards the end; and if Mr Rajah Singer or Scorcher, or whatever his name is, had been a soldier, he’d have made a better dash at capturing our battery. Just now I feel ready to wish we were infantry officers, with five hundred bayonets at our backs. What are we to do—use the guns from the walls?”

“No,” said Dick with energy; “make sallies, and next time we go take rations for a day or two, so that we can hold out, and not be bound to retreat into the town.”

“That isn’t a boy talking, Dick,” said Wyatt sharply as he clapped his companion on the shoulder. “You make me see daylight through the smoke. I was quite disheartened at our being caged up here. Yes, we’ll do something yet. Now then, have a look round at your patients, doctor, and then come with me.”