"And where did you lose your leg, Tom?"
"Vittoria--I 'appened to be carrying my off'cer, Ensign Standish
his name, barely eighteen year old. Shot through the lung he
were, and a-trying to tell me to put him down and go, the fire
being uncommonly 'ot there, you'll understand, sir, and as I say,
he were trying to tell me to drop him and run for it, and blowing
blood-bubbles wi' every word, when all at once I feels a sort of
a shock, and there I was on my back and him atop o' me; and when
I went to get up--damme! there was my leg gone below the knee,
and no pleasant sight, neither."
"And afterward?"
"Arterwards," he repeated. "Why, that were the end o' my sojerin',
ye see; we lay in the same 'ospital 'im an' me, side by side, and
he swore as I'd saved his life--which I 'adn't, look you, and
likewise swore as he'd never forget it. And he never 'as either,
for here am I wi' my own horse and cart, Tom Price by name,
carrier by trade, an' very much at your service, sir, I'm sure."
Thus we climbed the hill of Pembry, by tree and hedge, and lonely
cottage, by rolling meadow, and twilit wood, Tom the Soldier and I.
Much he told me of lonely night watches, of death sudden and
sharp, of long, weary marches, and stricken fields, of the bloody
doings of the Spanish Guerrillas, of Mina, and his deviltries.
And in my ears was the roar of guns, and before my eyes the gleam
and twinkle of bayonets. By the side of Tom the Soldier I waited
the thunderous charge of French Dragoons, saw their stern, set
faces, and the flash of their brandished steel as they swept down
upon our devoted square, swept down to break in red confusion
before our bristling bayonets; and the air was full of the screams
of smitten, horses, and the deep-throated shouts and groans of
men. By the side of Tom the Soldier I stormed through many a
reeking breach, swept by fire, and slippery with blood; and all
for love of it, the munificent sum of eightpence per day, and
that which we call "Glory." Bravo, Tom the Soldier!
And presently I became aware that he had stopped his horses, and
was regarding me smilingly.
"Tom," said I, "you are a wonderful talker!"
"And you, sir," said he, "are a better listener, and, look you, a
good listener is mighty hard to come by. Howsomever, here's the
end o' my journey, more's the pity, but if you--"