I had lain long in a kind of dreamy agony. Like many who were in the
Redan and in the ditch around it, I had murmured "water, water," often
and vainly. The loss of Estelle, or of Valerie, for times there were
when my mind wandered to the former _now_, the love of dear friends, the
death of comrades, honour, glory, danger from pillaging Russians or
Tartars, all emotions, in fact, were merged or swallowed up in the
terrible agony I endured in my shattered arm, and the still more
consuming craving for something wherewith to moisten my cracked lips
and parched throat. Poor Phil Caradoc had perhaps endured this before
me, while his heart and soul were full of Winifred Lloyd; but Phil,
God rest him! was at peace now, and slept as sound in his uncouth
grave as if laid under marble in Westminster Abbey.
In my uneasy slumber I had been conscious of this sensation of thirst,
and had visions of champagne goblets, foaming and iced; of humble
bitter beer and murmuring water; of gurgling brooks that flowed over
brown pebbles, and under long-bladed grass and burdocks in leafy
dingles; of Llyn Tegid, deep and blue; of the marble fountain, with
the lilies and golden fish, at Craigaderyn. Then with this idea the
voice of Winifred Lloyd came pleasantly to my ear; her white fingers
played with the sparkling water, she raised some to my lips, but the
cup fell to pieces, and starting, I awoke to find a tall Highlander,
of the Black Watch, bending over me, and on my imploring him to get me
some water, he placed his wooden canteen to my lips, and I drank of
the contents, weak rum-grog, greedily and thankfully.
It seemed strange to me that I should dream of Winifred, there and
then; but no doubt the last words of Caradoc had led me to think of
her. It is only when waking after long weariness of the body, and
over-tension of the nerves, the result of such keen excitement as we
had undergone since yesterday morning, that the full extremity of
exhaustion and fatigue can be felt, as I felt them then. Add to these,
that my shattered arm had bled profusely, and was still undressed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account