Leaping to his feet, faint and sick as he was, he took up the cry, and shouted in unison with the victors upon the field.
But he had scarcely uttered the notes of glory and victory before his strength deserted him, and he would have dropped upon the ground if he had not been caught by Hapgood.

He groaned heavily as he sank into the arms of his friend, and yielded to the faintness and exhaustion of the moment.
The surgeon said the wound was not a very bad one, but that the patient was completely worn out by the excessive fatigues of march and battle.

In due time he was conveyed to the college building in Williamsburg, where hundreds of his companions in arms were suffering and dying of their wounds.

He received every attention which the circumstances would permit.
Hapgood, by sundry vigorous applications at headquarters, was, in consideration of his own and his _protege's_ good conduct on the battle field, permitted to remain with the patient over night.
The sergeant's skull, as we have before intimated, was not very badly damaged, as physical injuries were measured after the bloody battle of that day.

But his wound was not the only detriment he had experienced in the trying ordeal of that terrible day.