It hurt a little, but the worst of it was that the pain distracted him and prevented his seeing what he had been looking at.
"What's this? Am I falling? My legs are giving way," thought he, and fell on his back.
He opened his eyes, hoping to see how the struggle of the Frenchmen with the gunners ended, whether the red-haired gunner had been killed or not and whether the cannon had been captured or saved.
But he saw nothing.
Above him there was now nothing but the sky--the lofty sky, not clear yet still immeasurably lofty, with gray clouds gliding slowly across it.

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