"Oh, I say, Gnat," he whispered, "this is too bad." For the doctor had raised the leg, and, after taking off the handkerchief, roughly tied round just above the knee, made no scruple about slitting up the lad's trousers with an ugly-looking knife, having a hooky kind of blade. "Bad?" said Mr Reardon anxiously. "Oh dear, no," replied the doctor. "Nice clean cut. Sponge and water, youngster. Ha, yes," he continued, as he applied the cool, soft sponge to the bleeding wound, "avoided all the vessels nicely." "Gnat, old chap," whispered Barkins, as I half supported him, "pinch me, there's a good fellow." "What for?" I whispered back. "Feel sicky and queer. Don't let me faint before him." "Here, hallo! Barkins, don't turn like a great girl over a scratch-- lower his head down, boy. That's the way. He'll soon come round. Ever see a wound dressed before?" "No, sir," I said, repressing a shudder. "Don't tease the boys, doctor," said Mr Reardon sharply; "get the wound dressed." "Well, I am dressing it, arn't I?" said the doctor cheerily, and as if he enjoyed his task. "I must draw the edges together first." He had taken what seemed to be a pocket-book from his breast and laid it open, and as I looked on, feeling sick myself, I saw him really put in three or four stitches, and then strap up and bandage the wound, just as Barkins came to and looked about wonderingly. "I didn't faint, did I?" he said anxiously. The doctor laughed. "There, lie down in your berth," he said. "Let me help you." He assisted my messmate gently enough, and then said laughingly-- "One can dress your wound without having three men to hold you. I say, Reardon, isn't it waste of good surgical skill for me to be dressing the prisoners' wounds, if you folk are going to hang them?" "I don't know that we are going to hang them," said the lieutenant quietly. "Perhaps we shall deliver them over to the Chinese authorities at Wanghai." "What? My dear fellow, go and beg the captain to hang 'em at once out of their misery. It will be a kindness. Do you know what a Chinese prison is?" "No." "Then I do. It would be a mercy to kill them." "The Chinese authorities may wish to make an example of them so as to repress piracy." "Let 'em make an example of some one else. Eh? Bandage too tight, my lad?" "No, sir," said Barkins rather faintly. "The wound hurts a good deal." "Good sign; 'tis its nature to," said the doctor jocosely. "But--er--you don't think, sir--" "`That you may die after it,' as we used to say over cut fingers at school. Bah! it's a nice clean honest cut, made with a sharp knife. Heal up like anything with your healthy young flesh." "But don't these savage people sometimes poison their blades, sir?"