“Is he wounded?”

“No matter—­a mattress!”

“But he might soil it—­”

“Then I’ll pay for it—­but for the love of heaven, be quick!”

Just then the boy’s head lurched forward and the blood poured from his mouth.  Leon jumped to help the old man who was holding him, and I had just time to catch the proprietress as she swooned on the floor.

“Put the boy on the billiard table and stuff this blanket under his head,” I said, grabbing the article mentioned from the top of a bundle near by.  “Come in here!” I called to the two daughters who were blubbering in the next room, terrified at what they had seen.  “Come in here—­lay her flat, loosen her clothes, and dash some cold water over her.  She’s not dead and I’ve no time to bother with her.”

While others laid the wounded man out on the table, I rushed for my emergency case which I had fortunately thought to bring along.

With a sharp pair of scissors, I cut away the bloody garments and with a little warm water washed my patient so I could see what was the matter.  He was but half conscious, and his eyes rolled wildly and his hand grasped mine and wrung it in agony.

I discovered a tiny cheek wound and was congratulating myself that perhaps the bullet had lodged in the flesh, when on turning his head gently to one side, I was almost nauseated by the terrible wound that greeted my eyes.

Either a Mauser pistol or an explosive bullet fired at but short distance had entered the cheek and gouged its way through the lad’s head, carrying away part of the ear and well—­let us not go any further.

“Is there a doctor in the place still?” I called to the cook who stood looking in at the door.  “Run and see if you can get him—­for I’m incompetent here.  Quick!  It’s life or death!”

And while she was gone I stuffed cotton and iodine into the tremendous cavity, hoping to stop the hemorrhage.  As I bandaged, I questioned the man who had brought him.

“Where did you pick him up?”

“Amillis—­a mile and a half from here.  The Uhlans fired into me, too, when they saw me help him.  Look at the sole of my shoe!  They’re following close on behind.”

I stepped to the window.  “George and Leon!  Quick!  Drop everything.  Hitch and get out of here like lightning!  I’ll follow in this man’s cart.  Hitch and I’ll tell you where to go.”

Fricasseed chicken and rabbit stew were forgotten and I could hear my people running wildly about the court, obeying orders.

The doctor appeared.  I explained.  “Shall I unbandage?”

“Useless.”

“Then don’t say so out loud, as he’s not yet unconscious.”

The poor fellow gripped my hand as proof.  The physician blushed scarlet.

“I’ll give him an injection of ether and then you take him in your cart to the nearest hospital—­it’s Provins—­twenty miles from here.”