One of the staff, happening to look round, at once rode back to him.
"You had best let me bandage up your wounds roughly," he said.

"It will be difficult to find a surgeon, now that they are all up to their eyes in work, somewhere in the rear." Fergus had received two severe wounds in the face, and a bayonet thrust through his leg.

The officer did his best to stanch the bleeding, and was still occupied in doing so when Karl rode up, jumped from his horse, and ran to his master's side.
"Where have you been, Karl ?" Fergus asked, for the soldier had also received a severe wound in the head.
"I followed you, master, as in duty bound; but I was some distance behind you, and in that melee I could not get near you; and being mixed up with one of the squadrons, I did not see you as you came back, and was in a great state about you until, on riding up to the staff, one of the officers pointed you out to me." "I think that you are in good hands now," the officer said.

"I will join the king again." Fergus thanked him warmly, but in a weak voice.
"The first thing, master, is for you to get a drink," Karl said; and he took, from the holster of Fergus's saddle, a flask that he had placed there that morning.

"Take a good drink of this," he said, "then I will see to your wounds.