“Could you cut one out of one of my jack boots?”

“A capital idea, Mr. Kennedy.  Nothing could be better.  And I will put it in operation, at once, with some of my other patients.”

“Mr. Kennedy is full of expedients, doctor, and it seems to me that this may be really a valuable one.  All the cavalry men have jack boots, and I will give you an order to requisition as many as may be required.  The men can get new ones from the stores at Ghent.”

The surgeon at once cut off the foot of one of Desmond’s boots, and then divided the leg longways.  “There,” he said, taking up one of the halves; “you could not wish for a better cradle.”

He took out some lint that he had brought with him, together with some flat splints, bound the hand in its proper position, and then laid the arm from the elbow to the fingers in the cradle, round which he tightly put a few bandages to keep it in position.

“Now for your scarf,” he said, and with this made a sling to support the arm.

The whole operation did not take five minutes.

“Now, Mr. Kennedy, you had best lie down and get what sleep you can.  I will take the other half of your boot, and the other boot also.  It will be no use without its fellow.  It will make three wounded men comparatively comfortable, and I will send for some more from the troopers.”

“Yes, lie down at once, Kennedy,” Berwick said.  “We are going to march off at daybreak, and the marshal and I have arranged everything between ourselves.  You had better try and eat something, if it is only a wing of that chicken and a few mouthfuls of meat.  Your faintness must be due as much to hunger as to your wound, for you have been at work since early morning, and cannot have had time to eat anything.”

This was indeed the case, and Desmond managed to swallow a few mouthfuls, and then lay down upon the sofa, where, in spite of the pain of his wound, he presently dozed off, being utterly worn out with the work and excitement of the day.

Before morning, some five thousand of the troops from Diepenbeck had marched into the camp, in good order and with their arms, and as soon as it was daylight the whole force started for Ghent.  With deep regret, Desmond had learned from the marshal, before lying down, that none of his comrades had returned; and as they had not reached Diepenbeck, he felt sure that they were either killed or prisoners.

“D’Eyncourt will, of course, be treated as a prisoner of war; but if the identity of O’Sullivan or O’Neil is proved with the officers of that name who escaped from Newgate, it is likely to go hard with him.”

After repulsing the cavalry sent in pursuit, the army marched away unmolested, being joined as they went by large numbers of fugitives, who had made their way through the allied lines in small parties.  Marlborough’s army remained on the ground they had won, collecting and caring for the wounded of both armies.