"They are sure to pursue, sir, unless the Heavy Brigade comes down." "Then you had better consult your own safety, and leave me." "Oh no, sir, I shall not leave you now." "Perhaps they will only take me prisoner." "If they do, sir, we will go together." "Don't mind me, look to yourself." "All right, sir; only we will go together, whatever happens." Just at this time I saw Sergeant Farrell coming by. I called to him. He asked, "Who is it?" When told, he came over. I said, "We must get Captain Webb out of this, for we shall be pursued." He agreeing, we made a chair of our hands, lifted the Captain up, and found that we could carry him with comparative ease. We had got about 200 yards in this manner, when the Captain complained that his leg was very painful. A private of the 13th being near, Malone, I asked him would he be good enough to support Captain Webb's legs, until we could procure a stretcher? He did so, and several of the officers passed us. Sir G. Wombwell said, "What is the matter, Peck?" (Captain Webb's nickname.) "Hit in the leg, old fellow. How did you escape?" "Well, I was unhorsed and taken prisoner, but when the second line came down, in the confusion I got away, and, seizing the first horse I could, I got away, and I find that it is Morris's." Sir W. Gordon made the same inquiry, and got the same answer. He had a very nasty cut on the head, and blood was then running down his face. He was carrying his dress cap in his hand. We had now reached the rear of the Greys, and I procured a stretcher from two Infantry band boys, and a young officer of the "Greys" gave me a "tourniquet," saying that he did not know how to apply it, but perhaps I might. I put it on the right thigh, and screwed it up. Doctor Kendal came here, and I pointed out what I had done, and asked was it right? "I could not have done it better myself; bring him along." [Illustration: "I LIFTED THE CAPTAIN OFF."] I and Farrell now raised the stretcher and carried it for about fifty yards, and again set it down. I was made aware of an officer of the Chasseurs d'Afrique being on my left by his placing his hand upon my shoulder. I turned and saluted. Pointing to Captain Webb, but looking at me, he said:-- "Your officer?" "Yes." "Ah! and you sergeant?" looking at the stripes on my arm. "Yes." "Ah! If you were in French service, I would make you an officer on the spot." Then, standing in his stirrups and extending his right hand, said:-- "Oh! it was grand, it was _magnifique_, but it is not war, it is not war."