30 WHIP AND SPUR. 



swaying to and fro, with hard and stertorous 

 breath, — every vein swollen and throbbing in 

 the moonlight. De Grandele, our quiet veter- 

 inary surgeon, had been called while it was yet 

 time to apply the lancet. As the hot stream 

 spurted from her neck she grew easier ; her 

 eye recovered its gentleness, and she laid her 

 head against my breast with the old sigh, and 

 seemed to know and to return all my love for 

 her. I sat with her until the first gray of 

 dawn, when she had grown quite calm, and 

 then I left her with De Grandele and Rudolf 

 while I went to my duties. We must march 

 at five o'clock, and poor Vixen could not be 

 moved. The thought of leaving her was very 

 bitter, but I feared it must be done, and I 

 asked De Grandele how he could best end her 

 sufferings, — or was there still some hope 1 ? He 

 shook his head mournfully, like a kind-hearted 

 doctor as he was, and said that he feared not ; 

 but still, as I was so fond of her, if I would 

 leave him six men, he would do his best to 

 bring her on, and, if he could not, he would 



