My hands and face were paining me as if they had been terribly burned.

There were a number of men standing over a motionless figure that lay beside me.
"The poor lad!" said one of the men "he's nearly roasted.

See here how the clothes have been burned away from his neck! Can't ye stop the blood?
The mon'll die afore the amb'lance comes ef we don't stop the blood.

A brave mon he is, too.

D'ye see 'im coming down the stairs with th' other one on his back ?" Of whom were they talking?
I struggled to my feet--I could feel no pain now--and bent over that still form which had been lying beside me.