So much had the gallantry of the little cornet attracted the attention and admiration of the Dutch, that plenty of volunteers were glad to assist Hugh to carry him to Fort Lille.

There during the night a surgeon examined his wound, and pronounced that the ball had broken two ribs, and had then glanced out behind, and that if all went well, in a month he would be about again.
The numbers of wounded were far beyond the resources of Fort Lille to accommodate, and all were upon the following day put into boats, and distributed through the various Dutch riverine towns, in order that they might be well tended and cared for.

This was a far better plan than their accumulation in large military hospitals, where, even with the greatest care, the air is always impure, and the deaths far more numerous than when the men are scattered, and can have good nursing and fresh air.
Rupert, with several other officers, was sent to Dort, at that time one of the great commercial cities of Holland.

Rupert, although tightly bandaged, and forbidden to make any movement, was able to take an interest in all that was going on.
"There is quite a crowd on the quay, Hugh." "Yes, sir; I expect most of these Dutch officers have friends and acquaintances here.

Besides, as yet the people here cannot tell who have fallen, and must be anxious indeed for news." The crowd increased greatly by the time the boat touched the quay; and as the officers stepped or were carried ashore, each was surrounded by a group of anxious inquirers.
Hugh, standing by his master's stretcher, felt quite alone in the crowd--as, seeing his British uniform, and the shake of his head at the first question asked, none tried to question him--and looked round vaguely at the crowd, until some soldiers should come to lift the stretcher.
Suddenly he gave a cry of surprise, and to Rupert's astonishment left his side, and sprang through the crowd.