that the Frenchman had been found still held in tight grip, his neck
broken. The enemy had been put to the rout and had fled, leaving their
flag behind them. Moreover, the French camp a couple of miles away had
been spied.

"You have three ribs broken, Fairburn," the officer went on, "and
you've got about as many bruises as there are days in a year. But what
of that. By Jerusalem! I wish the honour had fallen to me!"

"I don't mind the wounds a bit, sir," George answered, cheerfully, "so
long as I've been of some use."

The next day no less a person than the great Earl of Galway himself
came to speak to the wounded lad.

"I have heard from your lieutenant here the tale of your doings
yesterday," he said, with a smile. "You are a boy of pluck. You are
done for so far as the present campaign is concerned, and must be sent
back to hospital. But there's work cut out yet for a lad of your
mettle."

George heard all this praise as if in a dream. He was never sure in
after years whether the Earl had really said so much. But Lieutenant
Fieldsend, who was destined to become his comrade on many a
hard-fought field, and his warm friend for life, was always prepared
to tell the full and correct story.