’Many more won’t; the people of the city won’t, and most of my men will think you are I. You’ve only got to ride behind that carriage and return salutes, and you’ve done it. You must do it, Billums; my horse is as quiet as a lamb, he doesn’t even mind their atrocious bands or the guns firing.’ I’d never felt so utterly wretched in my life. ’All right, I’ll try,’ I said. Zorilla bowed to me and went out, though, first of all, looking very sad, he clicked his heels and saluted poor old Gerald as he lay on the bed. José, with red eyes and trembling fingers, began unbuttoning Gerald’s gaiters, while Bob and I held his legs above the knee to prevent any shaking. The only clean riding breeches Gerald had were the ones he was wearing, so he made us take them off. I stripped and got into them; I could not have felt more miserable if I was going to be hanged, and to make things more wretched, just below the inner left braces button was the small hole made by the bullet and a tiny stain of blood. I dragged them on, José laced them at the knees, then I put on Gerald’s brown boots, and José fastened on his gaiters, rubbing off his tear-marks with his sleeve. He helped me into one of Gerald’s white duck ’Norfolk’ jackets and handed me his newest polo helmet. ’You’re the very thing,’ Gerald said, looking at me, and even José appeared astonished, so I suppose I must have looked very much like my brother. Then Dr. Robson came back with the Fleet Surgeon of the _Hercules_ and the swagger Santa Cruz surgeon, an extraordinarily fat man with fat, greasy, tobacco-stained fingers covered with rings. They examined the wound again, and the fat man shrugged his shoulders and I saw him draw one finger across the other hand and look at Robson very suggestively. I knew he meant to cut Gerald open. The Fleet Surgeon and he talked French to each other for some minutes, and I could see that our doctor didn’t like the idea of an operation, but the fat chap was evidently talking him round to his own way of thinking. ’Well, what’s the verdict?’ Gerald asked, looking from one to the other rather anxiously, and the Fleet Surgeon said, in a low voice, ’We must give you a little ether and have a look at you.’ ’All right, doctor, I’m ready,’ Gerald answered quite quietly; thank goodness, he was in hardly any pain. Then the ’Gnome’ came in to fetch Gerald for the procession, thought for a second that I, in his things, was he, but then saw him lying on the bed. He nearly broke down when Gerald spoke to him. ’You go with him, Billums,’ Gerald said. Dr. Robson followed us out of the room. ’We’re going to operate almost immediately; that fat chap thinks it necessary, and as he’s the best surgeon anywhere here, we must take his advice.’ I darted back, ’Good-bye, old chap! good luck!—there won’t be any pain.’ I tried to say it cheerfully, but I had to dart out again, for there was a lump in my throat and I was afraid it would burst.