Here they were questioned, first in Polish and then in German, but upon the boys repeating the word "English," the officer, who spoke a little French, addressed them in that language, and Dick explained that they were English naval officers taken prisoners at Sebastopol, and making their escape through Poland.

He then asked if there was a surgeon who could dress his wound, but was told that none was procurable nearer than a town fifteen miles away.

A country cart was speedily procured and filled with straw, and upon this Dick lay down, while Jack took his seat by the peasant who was to drive the cart.
It was eleven o'clock in the day when they entered the town, and the peasant drew up, in accordance with the instructions he had received, at the best hotel, the landlord of which was in no slight degree surprised at such an arrival, and was disposed to refuse them admittance.

Jack, however, produced a bundle of Russian notes, at which sight the landlord's hesitation vanished at once, and in half an hour a surgeon stood by Dick's bedside dressing his wound.

It was a severe one, the bone being broken between the elbow and shoulder.
The next day Dick was in a state of high fever, due more to the hardship and exposure through which he bad passed than to the wound, and for a week lay between life and death.