A DUEL, AND ITS RESULTS. 181 



soldier's mind — excited, maddened, lie still presses on over 

 heaps of slain. These men are fighting the battles of their 

 country, not their own. They have no private vengeance 

 to gratify, no private wrongs to redress, no fine-spun ideas 

 of honour to maintain; but their war-cry is, "Fro arts et 

 focis" for our altars and our homes. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



The signal was given ; both pistols were discharged simul- 

 taneously, making almost one report ; and, as the smoke cleared 

 away, Vernon was seen lying on the ground, shot through the 

 body ; and the Count staggered back into his second's arms, his 

 opponent's ball having passed through his right shoulder, shat- 

 tering the bone into splinters. In a moment, the surgeon, with 

 Fitzgerald, was kneeling by Vernon's side ; the former tearing 

 open his waistcoat, whilst Fitzgerald supported his sinking head 

 upon his knees. 



" It's all over with him, Pat," exclaimed the doctor ; " the 

 bullet has passed through his lungs, I fear ; but stay ! " feeling 

 his pulse, " he lives still ! quick with the bottle ; pour a little 

 down his throat, if you can, whilst I stanch the blood." A 

 feint sigh escaped the wounded man. "Ah!" cried the surgeon, 

 "he revives! give him a little more of the liquid. By the 

 powers ! he's coming round ; but, poor devil, with that air-hole 

 through his body, recovery, I fear, is hopeless." 



The Count's friend, seeing what was taking place, hurried 

 him from the ground, believing Vernon to be mortally wounded, 

 if not already dying ; but from the pain and the resuscitating 

 remedies used, the sufferer gradually recovered his consciousness 

 and begged, in a faint voice, to be carried home. His noxt 

 inquiry was about the Count. "You winged him, Vernon," 

 was his friend's reply; "but now, drink the rest of this bottle, 

 and we will try and get you into the carriage ; only don't 

 attempt to speak any more just yet, as the doctor won't allow 

 it." 



Fitzgerald and his friendly assistant, O'Brien, having carried 

 the wounded man to the carriage, placed him in a recumbent 

 position, and by the aid of cushions and their over-coats, formed 

 a tolerable couch for him to recline upon; and he was then 



