she could see the face while she groaned out, "Poor soul." And thus
they worked their sad way up to the buildings about the water mill.
There was a shed through the chinks of which light could be seen, and
at the door of which a soldier exclaimed--

"Have ye more wounded, Sam? There's no room for a dog in here. They
lie as thick as herrings in a barrel."

"Nay, 'tis a poor country woman come to look for her son. What's his
name? Is there a malignant here of the name of Harry Lakin?"

The question was repeated, and a cry of gladness, "Mother! mother!"
ended in a shriek of pain in the distance within.

"Aye, get you in, mother, get you in. A woman here will be all the
better, be she who she may."

The permission was not listened to. Nanny had already sprung into
the midst of the mass of suffering towards the bloody straw where her
son was lying.

Steadfast, who had of course looked most anxiously at each of the
still forms on the way, now ventured to say:--

"So please you, sir, would you ask after one Jephthah Kenton? On
your own side, sir, in Captain Venn's troop? I am his brother."

"Oh, ho! you are of the right sort, eh?" said the soldier. "Jephthah
Kenton. D'ye know aught of him, Joe?"