“He is away from home, then?”

“The Senor Coronel has gone to London.  He will be back to-morrow.”

“Well, if I cannot thank him to-day, I can thank you.  You are my nurse, are you not?”

“A little—­Geist and I, and Mees Tomleenson, we relieve each other.  But those two don’t know much about wounds.”

“And you do, I suppose?”

“Hijo de Dios! Do I know much about wounds?  I have nursed men who have been cut to pieces.  I have been cut to pieces myself.  Look!”

And with that Ramon pointed to his neck, which was seamed all the way down with a tremendous scar; then to his left hand, which was minus two fingers; next to one of his arms, which appeared to have been plowed from wrist to elbow with a bullet; and lastly to his head, which was almost covered with cicatrices, great and small.

“And I have many more marks in other parts of my body, which it would not be convenient to show you just now,” he said, quietly.

“You are an old soldier, then, Ramon?”

“Very.  And now I will light myself a cigarette, and you will no more talk.  As an old soldier, I know that it is bad for a caballero with a broken head to talk so much as you are doing.”

“As a surgeon, I know you are right, and I will talk no more for the present.”

And then, feeling rather drowsy, I composed myself to sleep.  The last thing I remembered before closing my eyes was the long, swarthy, quixotic-looking face of my singular nurse, veiled in a blue cloud of cigarette-smoke, which, as it rolled from the nostrils of his big, aquiline nose, made those orifices look like the twin craters of an active volcano, upside down.

When, after a short snooze, I woke a second time, my first sensation was one of intense surprise, and being unable, without considerable inconvenience, to rub my eyes, I winked several times in succession to make sure that I was not dreaming; for while I slept the swart visage, black eyes, and grizzled mustache of my nurse had, to all appearance, been turned into a fair countenance, with blue eyes and a tawny head, while the tiny cigarette had become a big meerschaum pipe.

“God bless me!  You are surely not Ramon?” I exclaimed.

“No; I am Geist.  It is my turn of duty as your nurse.  Can I get you anything?”

“Thank you very much; you are all very kind.  I feel rather faint, and perhaps if I had something to eat it might do me good.”

“Certainly.  There is some beef-tea ready.  Here it is.  Shall I feed you?”

“Thank you.  My left arm is tied up, and this broken finger is very painful.  Bat I am giving you no end of trouble.  I don’t know how I shall be able to repay you and Mr. Fortescue for all your kindness.”

“Ach Gott! Don’t mention it, my dear sir.  Mr. Fortescue said you were to have every attention; and when a fellow-man has been broken all to pieces it is our duty to do for him what we can.  Who knows?  Perhaps some time I may be broken all to pieces myself.  But I will not ride your fiery horses.  My weight is seventeen stone, and if I was to throw myself off a galloping horse as you did, ach Gott! I should be broken past mending.”