The next thing I saw was Sandy, already beyond the glacis, leaping with great bounds down the hill.

They were shooting at him, but he heeded them not.

For the space of a minute he was out of sight, and his whereabouts was shown only by the patter of bullets.
Then he came back--walking quite slowly up the last slope, and he was carrying something in his arms.

The enemy fired no more; they realized what had happened.
He laid his burden down gently in a corner of the _castrol_.

The cap had fallen off, and the hair was breaking loose.