What's his
name? Is there a malignant here of the name of Harry Lakin?"
The question was repeated, and a cry of gladness, "Mother! mother!"
ended in a shriek of pain in the distance within.
"Aye, get you in, mother, get you in. A woman here will be all the
better, be she who she may."
The permission was not listened to. Nanny had already sprung into
the midst of the mass of suffering towards the bloody straw where her
son was lying.
Steadfast, who had of course looked most anxiously at each of the
still forms on the way, now ventured to say:--
"So please you, sir, would you ask after one Jephthah Kenton? On
your own side, sir, in Captain Venn's troop? I am his brother."
"Oh, ho! you are of the right sort, eh?" said the soldier. "Jephthah
Kenton. D'ye know aught of him, Joe?"
"I heard him answer to the roll call before Venn's troop went off to
quarters," replied the other man. "He is safe and sound, my lad, and
Venn's own orderly."
Steadfast's heart bounded up. He longed still to know whether poor
Harry Lakin was in very bad case, but it was impossible to get in to
discover, and he was pushed out of the way by a party carrying in
another wounded man, whose moans and cries were fearful to listen to.
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