"
Grace listened in amazement. "Think what you risk," she said "if
you stop here."
Mercy pointed to her left shoulder.
"Don't alarm yourself on my account," she answered; "the red
cross will protect me."
Another roll of the drum warned the susceptible surgeon to take
his place as director-general of the ambulance without any
further delay. He conducted Grace to a chair, and placed both her
hands on his heart this time, to reconcile her to the misfortune
of his absence. "Wait here till I return for you," he whispered.
"Fear nothing, my charming friend. Say to yourself, 'Surville is
the soul of honor! Surville is devoted to me!'" He struck his
breast; he again forgot the obscurity in the room, and cast one
look of unutterable homage at his charming friend. "A _bientot!_"
he cried, and kissed his hand and disappeared.
As the canvas screen fell over him the sharp report of the
rifle-firing was suddenly and grandly dominated by the roar of
cannon. The instant after a shell exploded in the garden outside,
within a few yards of the window.
Grace sank on her knees with a shriek of terror. Mercy, without
losing her self-possession, advanced to the window and looked
out.
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