"Hullo!" I exclaimed. No: it could hardly be called an exclamation, for it was said in a very low tone of voice, as I stared about me, and grew confused. For I felt that I ought to be lying in one of the shattered rooms of the residency. No: we had left the residency, and I ought to be lying under a tree in the tope. It was very puzzling, and I could not make it out at all. In fact, the more I tried, the more perplexing it grew, and while I was trying to get my head to think properly, everything grew dull and misty, and I went off to sleep once more. But the next time I awoke and ran over my position, I found that I was able to think well, and I did, though the puzzle was great still, why it was that I was lying on cushions with handsome purdahs or curtains hung about the sides of what was evidently a tent, with handsome Indian carpets spread on the floor, and a punkah over my head, waving gently to and fro to cool the air. As I was trying to pierce the cloud that closed me in, I at last got a gleam of light through it as if the cloud had opened a little, and I recollected distinctly standing by my two guns in the glaring hot street. Yes; I could recollect that clearly, but no more. Then came a period of confusion, but that passed off, and I remembered our trot and then gallop out of the town, down the long road, and out into the country-like plain, where we took up position, and brought the guns into action. After a time I recalled the whole of the particulars of the engagement right on to our halt beside the tope, within whose shades the waggons, elephants, and wounded men were placed. And now a feeling of trouble and worry came over me, for I recollected that I had been so busy that I had not been to see Serjeant Craig. It looked hard, for he had done so much for us, but I hoped that Brace had been to him, and that he would not think it unkind of me, knowing as he would that I had been heavily on duty. But, all the same, it was hard for the poor fellow lying wounded. I paused there, and then repeated the words in a strange, puzzled way--"Poor fellow lying wounded--poor fellow lying wounded." And then, with the intention of sitting up, I moved my arm. No; I only tried to move it, and felt a horrible twinge of pain. Then I tried to raise my head, but it felt like so much lead, and the effort made me feel sick. But my mind was active now, and as I said in a whisper, "Why, I must be wounded," the scene of our last gallop came back to my mind with vivid force, and I saw it all, and even, as it were, felt the sensation of the mad gallop, and the shock of our collision with the sowars, even to the curious sensation of galloping along with our men firing at us, and then awakening to the fact that I had fierce-looking troopers on either side, and then of one cutting at me, and another interposing to save my life. Yes; I could recollect that clearly, and I recalled, too, the poor fellow falling headlong from his horse.