I must go and help a little, if I could."

"Yes--I suppose you would feel that," he acknowledged, a sort of grudging
approval in his tones. "But there's nothing more one can do now. An
emergency train is coming soon and then we shall get away--those that are
left of us. But what's this?"--he felt her sleeve--"Your arm is all
wet." He pushed up the loose coat-sleeve and swung the light of his
lantern upon the thin silk of her blouse beneath it. It was caked with
blood, while a trickle of red still oozed slowly from under the wristband
and ran down over her hand.

"You're hurt! Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's nothing," she answered. "I cut it against the glass of the
carriage window. It doesn't hurt much."

"Let me look at it. Here, take the lantern."

Diana obeyed, laughing a little nervously, and he turned back her sleeve,
exposing a nasty red gash on the slender arm. It was only a surface
wound however, and hastily procuring some water he bathed it and tied it
up with his handkerchief.

"There, I think that'll be all right now," he said, pulling down her
sleeve once more and fastening the wristband with deft fingers. "The
emergency train will be here directly, so I'm going back to our
compartment to pick up your belongings. I can climb in, I fancy. What
did you leave behind?"

Diana laughed.