“Forgive me,” she said anxiously, “but I fear I can never dress it in this way. We must remove your jacket and cut away the sleeve of your shirt.” It was an agonizing operation, for it has often seemed to me that the more superficial the wound the greater the pain experienced in dealing with it, and the perspiration stood in beads upon my forehead as she worked quickly and with skill. At last the disagreeable task was accomplished, the wounded shoulder completely bared. Her face was deathly white now, and she shielded her eyes with her hand. “Oh, what a horrible wound!” she exclaimed, almost sobbing. “How that great brute must have hurt you!” “The wound is not so serious as it appears,” I replied reassuringly, and glad myself to feel that I spoke the truth, “but I confess the pain is intense, and makes me feel somewhat faint. It was not so much the mere bite of the dog, but unfortunately he got his teeth into an old wound and tore it open.” “An old wound?” “Yes; I received a Minié ball there at Gettysburg, and although the bullet was extracted, the wound never properly healed.” These words served to recall to her instantly the fact that I was not of her own people; there appeared to come again into her manner that marked restraint which had almost totally disappeared during the last few minutes. Not that she failed in any kindness or consideration, but a growing reserve put check upon what was fast becoming the intimacy of friendship. Yet she performed her disagreeable task with all the tenderness of a sympathetic woman, and as she worked swiftly and deftly, made no attempt to conceal the tears clinging to her long lashes. Skilfully the deep, jagged gash was bathed out, and then as carefully bound up with the softest cloths she could find at hand. The relief was great, and I felt, as I moved the shoulder, that saving the soreness it would probably not greatly bother me. “Now you must lie back and rest,” she said command-ingly, as I attempted to thank her. “Here, put your head on this cloak. But first it will do you good to have more of the brandy, for you are as white as death.” “Merely a slight faintness; and I will only consent to indulge provided you partake first, for I know you require the stimulant as much as I,” I retorted doggedly, gazing up into her face with an admiration she could scarcely fail to perceive. She lifted the flask to her lips and did not answer, but when she handed it back to me there was a new flush upon her cheeks. “And now as your nurse I command absolute quiet,” striving to speak gaily. “See, the daylight is already here, and I mean to discover if this lone cabin contains anything which human beings can eat; I confess that I am nearly famished.” “A most excellent symptom, and I imagine your quest will not be wholly vain. To my eye that greatly resembles a slab of bacon hanging beside the chimney.” “It indeed is,” she exclaimed, “and I feel as a shipwrecked seaman must on first beholding land.”