Then, like a man in a dream, he had followed along behind
them until, on the very threshold, he had raised his heavy eyes to
see Ethel standing before him, a broad shaft of sunshine pouring
down upon her to rest in the locks of sunshiny hair which straggled
out from beneath her crisp white cap.
"Cooee!" he said huskily, as he took her hand. Then, for the first
time in all those terrible hours since the battle, his lips had
quivered, and two big, boyish tears had rolled out across his
cheeks.
Already the fight seemed to him to be months old. From the first, it
had been the Captain's wish that Weldon should go with him to the
hospital, and Weldon would have allowed no other man to go in his
place. Wounded and weak from loss of blood, nevertheless he forgot
his own weakness as he saw the leg, shattered by two bullets,
explosive bullets such as are denied to warfare of any but barbarous
nations. Young though he was, Weldon had seen many a man wounded
before now. He was not slow to realize the nature of the
alternatives which lay before the man who was at once his hero and
his friend. Mercifully, he had as yet no knowledge how soon the one
alternative must be taken from him.
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