"
"Get up, for God's sake, man; you have saved the life of my dearest
friend!" And seizing the Irishman's arm, George pulled him to his
feet, and wrung the hand hard in his own. "You are a fine fellow, a
right fine fellow. What is your name? I shall never forget you."
"Sergeant Oborne, sir, at your service. But you have not read the
paper yet."
"True," and George deciphered the line or two written in pencil on the
back of the paper. "I am alive and well, but a prisoner with the
French. Be easy about me; I am well treated. M.B."
CHAPTER XII
CONCLUSION
Almost before Captain Fairburn had read the last word of Matthew's
communication, so cheering and so strangely brought into his hands,
the French signal to retreat sounded loud all over the field, a
mournful sound to one of the two listeners, a delight to the other,
George and Oborne glanced into each other's face. "What will you do?"
the former asked.
"I am your prisoner and defenceless; it is not for me to say," the
Irishman answered simply.
"Nay, not so, good fellow. You shall do exactly as you prefer, so far
as I am concerned. I can do no less for you."
The prisoner shrugged his shoulders and muttered something about
catching it hot, if he ran, to which the captor replied, "So you
would, I am afraid, if any of our men got near you.
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