Bitter sad times were those in the happy homes of England. Sorrow lay on the land like a chill black frost; but below it were simmering all those forces of passionate indignation which presently rose into that inextinguishable roar which swept men from their high positions, and in time carried somewhat of relief to the remnant of the army before Sebastopol. CHAPTER LIX TOUCH AND GO FOR THE COIL Jim followed Jack's body with the single-minded persistency of a faithful dog whose master has come to grief. His original captor would have taken him elsewhere, but he flatly declined to go anywhere but where Jack went. He thrust aside all interfering hands, and to all attempts at coercion in any other direction simply pointed to Jack and himself and said, "My brother!"--but with so grim and determined and dejected a face that at last the other gave way and followed them into the hospital. It was very full--crammed with broken and dying men--but Jim had no thought save for Jack. Whether he was alive or dead he did not know, but he must stick to him and do what he could. There was difficulty in finding room for him. A harassed surgeon, to whom the officer spoke, shook red hands at them and poured out a spate of hot words, but, arrested by something the other said, looked worriedly round and at last pointed to a corner; and Jim's captor explained to him, in his peculiar English, that the man who lay there would be dead in a minute or two, and then they could put Jack in his place. And presently the attendants came along and carried the dead man away, and Jim and the officer lifted Jack on to the pallet, and the worried surgeon came round and knelt down and opened up his things, and examined him with quick, practised hands and a keen eye for causes and effects. Jim's heart ran slow at sight of a bullet-hole in the white breast, and he watched the surgeon hypnotically as he carefully turned the body over and pointed to the place where it had come out at the back, just under the shoulder, and then spoke hurriedly to the officer. "He says," said the other, in his broken English, helped out with very good French--which it would be but a hindrance to attempt to reproduce in detail--"he cannot tell. It has gone right through. He may live, he may die. It will take time to tell. Now you come." "May I come again to see him?" "I will try. You will give your parole?" "Yes," said Jim; for Jack was more to him than all the chances of escape. "Then we will see. Now come!" "Beg him to do everything he can for him. Couldn't we take him somewhere else?" "He is better here, for the present. Later we will see. Now come!" And since he could do no more at the moment, Jim went with him. "For to-night you will come to the guard-room. To-morrow you will go to Head-quarters and be properly paroled, Then we will see."