“Colonel O’Brien,” he said, “I must ask your leave off parade, for, as you see, I am scarcely in a condition to take my place with my company.”

“So it would seem, Mr. Kennedy.  You have been in trouble, I see.  Nothing serious, I hope?”

“Nothing at all, sir, as far as I am concerned.  It is merely a graze from a pistol ball.”

“Well, I must hear about it, afterwards.”

“I must also ask leave off parade for Callaghan, my servant, sir.  He is hurt a good deal more than I am, though not, I hope, seriously.”

The colonel nodded.  “I will send the surgeon to your quarters, and he will see to you both.”

As Desmond left the colonel, his two chums came up.

“Why, Kennedy, what on earth have you been doing to yourself?  This is what comes of gallivanting about after dark.  When we came round, yesterday evening, to go out with you as usual, you were not in.  There was nothing very unusual in that, for these evening walks of yours are often prolonged; but we called again, on our return at eleven o’clock, and found you were still absent.  This looked serious.  We came round again at six this morning, for we were anxious about you, and learned you had not been in all night, and, on enquiring, heard that Callaghan was also absent.

“That was cheering.  That you might get into some scrape or other, we could reasonably believe; but, as you had your man with you, we could hardly suppose that misfortune had fallen upon both of you.”

“The wound is a mere graze.  I will tell you, after parade, what I have been doing,” Desmond said, “but you must nurse your curiosity till you are dismissed.”

A few minutes after Desmond reached his quarters, the surgeon came in.

“I do not think that I have any need of your services, doctor.  I got a piece of plaster, and stuck it on two hours ago, and I have no doubt that the wound will heal in a few days.”

“However, I will, with your permission, take it off, Mr. Kennedy.  It is much better that the wound should be properly washed, and some dressing applied to it.  It will heal all the quicker, and you are less likely to have an ugly scar.

“It is a pretty deep graze,” he said, after he had carefully removed the plaster.  “An eighth of an inch farther, and it would have made your teeth rattle.  You had better keep quiet, today.  Tomorrow morning, if there is no sign of inflammation, I will take off the dressing and bandage and put on a plaster—­one a third of the size that I took off will be sufficient; and as I will use a pink plaster, it will not be very noticeable, if you go outside the barracks.

“Where is your man?  The colonel told me there were two patients.

“A nasty cut,” he said, after examining Mike’s wound.  “It is lucky that it was not a little higher.  If it had been, you would have bled to death in five minutes.  As it is, it is not serious.  You will have to keep your arm in a sling for a fortnight.  You are not to attend parade, or mount a horse, until I give you leave.”