Terence made his way
across the broken ground near the village. Galloping at a low stone wall,
the horse was in the act of rising to clear it when it was struck in the
head by a round shot. Terence was thrown far ahead over the wall, and fell
heavily head-foremost on a pile of stones covered by some low shrubs.
The shock was a terrible one, and for many hours he lay insensible. When
he recovered consciousness, he remained for some time wondering vaguely
where he was. Above him was a canopy of foliage, through which the rays of
the sun were streaming. A dead silence had succeeded the roar of battle.
He put his hand to his head, which was aching intolerably, and found that
his hair was thick with clotted blood.
"Yes, of course," he said to himself at last; "I was carrying a message to
Fane. I was just going to jump a wall and there was a sudden crash. I
remember--I flew out of the saddle--that is all I do remember. I have been
stunned, I suppose. How is it so quiet? I suppose the battle is over."
Then he sat suddenly upright.
"The sun is shining," he said. "It was getting dusk when I was riding back
to the village. I must have lain here all night."
Suddenly he heard a gun fired; it was quickly followed by others. He rose
on his knees and looked cautiously over the bushes.
"It is away there," he said, "on those heights above the harbour.
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