"I know you are all busy, doctor," the duke said, as the surgeon
entered, "but you must do something for Mr. Kennedy, who is badly
wounded in the arm."

The surgeon examined the wound, and shook his head.

"Both bones are fractured," he said, "and I am afraid that there
is nothing for it but amputation."

"Then leave it till tomorrow, doctor," Desmond said faintly.
"There must be a number of poor fellows who want your attention
much more than I do."

"That would do, if I could make you a cradle, but we are badly off
for all surgical appliances."

"Could you cut one out of one of my jack boots?"

"A capital idea, Mr. Kennedy. Nothing could be better. And I will
put it in operation, at once, with some of my other patients."

"Mr. Kennedy is full of expedients, doctor, and it seems to me
that this may be really a valuable one. All the cavalry men have
jack boots, and I will give you an order to requisition as many as
may be required. The men can get new ones from the stores at
Ghent."

The surgeon at once cut off the foot of one of Desmond's boots,
and then divided the leg longways. "There," he said, taking up one
of the halves; "you could not wish for a better cradle."