The pain of his wound, caused by the movement, was acute, but he retained consciousness until, after what seemed to him a journey of immense length, he was again laid down on the ground, close to a large fire.

Several officers stood round him, and he asked, first in Polish and then in Swedish, for water, and at the orders of one who seemed of superior rank to the others, some was at once brought to him.
"Your king treats his prisoners well," the officer said.

"We will do everything we can for you." Half an hour later, a doctor came to his side, and cutting open his coat, applied a bandage to his shoulder.
"Is it a serious wound ?" Charlie asked in Swedish.
"It might be worse, but it will be a troublesome one; it is a sabre cut, and has cleft right through your shoulder bone.

Are you hurt anywhere else ?" "No, I do not think so.

I was knocked down in the dark, and I believe stunned, though I have a sort of recollection of being trampled on, and I feel sore all over." The surgeon felt his ribs and limbs, repeatedly asking him if it hurt him.