"Go in, Cameron," said Constable Scott. "I'll take care of 'em all right," he added, drawing his gun.
"No," said Cameron, still with his hand on goatee Bill's collar.
"I'll see them safe first," saying which he swayed drunkenly about and, but for Bill's support, would have fallen.
"Go on!" said Bill good-naturedly. "Don't mind me. I'm good now."
"Come!" said the doctor, supporting him into the tent.
"Forward!" commanded Constable Scott, and marched his prisoners before him up the hill.
The wound on Cameron's head was a ghastly affair, full six inches long, and went to the bone.
"Rather ugly," said the doctor, feeling round the wound. "Nurse!" he called. "Nurse!" The little nurse came running in. "Some water and a sponge!"
There was a cry behind her--low, long, pitiful.
"Oh, what is this?" With a swift movement Nurse Haley was beside the doctor's bed. Cameron, who had been lying with his eyes closed and was ghastly white from loss of blood, opened his eyes and smiled up into the face above him.
"I feel fine--now," he said and closed his eyes again.
"Let me do that," said Nurse Haley with a kind of jealous fierceness, taking the sponge and basin from the little nurse.
Examination revealed nothing more serious, however, than a deep scalp wound and a slight concussion.
"He will be fit enough in a couple of days," said the doctor when the wound was dressed.
Then, pale and haggard as if with long watching, Nurse Haley went to her room there to fight out her lonely fight while Cameron slept.
The day passed in quiet, the little nurse on guard, and the doctor looking in every half hour upon his patient. As evening fell Cameron woke and demanded Nurse Haley. The doctor felt his pulse.
"Send her in!" he said and left the tent.
The rays of the sun setting far down the Pass shone through the walls and filled the tent with a soft radiance. Into this radiance she came, her face pale as of one who has come through conflict, and serene as of one who has conquered, pale and strong and alight, not with the radiance of the setting sun, but with light of a soul that has made the ancient sacrifice of self-effacing love.
"You want me?" she said, her voice low and sweet, but for all her brave serenity tremulous.
"Yes," said Cameron, holding out his arms. "I want you; I want YOU, Mandy."
"Oh," cried the girl, while her hands fluttered to her heart, "don't ask me to go through it again. I am so weak." She stood like a frightened bird poised for flight.
"Come," he said, "I want you."
"You want me? You said you wanted to take care of me," she breathed.
"I was a fool, Mandy; a conceited fool! Now I know what I want--I want--just YOU. Come." Again he lifted his arms.
"Oh, it cannot be," she breathed as if to herself. "Are you sure--sure? I could not bear it if you were not sure."
"Come, dear love," he cried, "with all my heart and soul and body I want you--I want only YOU."
For a single moment longer she stood, her soul searching his through her wonderful eyes. Then with a little sigh she sank into his arms.
"Oh, my darling," she whispered, wreathing her strong young arms around his neck and laying her cheek close to his, "my darling, I thought I had given you up, but how could I have done it?"
At the hospital door the doctor was on guard. A massive figure loomed in the doorway.
"Hello, Superintendent Strong, what on earth are you doing out of bed?"
"Where is he?" said the Superintendent abruptly.
"Who?"
"Corporal Cameron."
