Small indeed was the proportion of those who had fought at the Alma now present with the army at Sebastopol.

The fight of Inkerman, the mighty wear and tear in the trenches, the deadly repulses at the Redan, and above all, the hardships of that terrible winter, had swept away the noble armies which had landed in the Crimea, and scarcely one in ten of those who heard the first gun in the Alma was present at the fall of Sebastopol.
The naval camp was now broken up, the sailors returned on board ship, and the army prepared to go into winter quarters, that is to say, to dig deep holes under their tents, to erect sheltering walls, and in some instances to dig complete subterranean rooms.
A week after the assault Harry Archer was carried down to Balaklava and put on board ship.

The surgeons had in vain endeavored to extract the bullet, and were unable to give any cheering reply to Jack's anxious inquiries.
His brother might live; but they owned that his chances were slight.
It was a question of general health and constitution.

If mortification did not set in the wound might heal, and he might recover and carry the bullet about with him all his life.

Of course he had youth and health on his side, and Jack must hope for the best.