Bella's whisper died away, and Ivanka resumed--

"_Yes_, he said there was almost nothing of him left. He was joking,

you know, when he said that, but it is not so much of a joke after all,

for I saw--"

"Oh! hush, dear, hush; tell me what he said, and speak lower."

Ivanka spoke so low that I heard no more, but what had reached my ear

was sufficient to let me know how the current ran, and I was not sorry

that poor Bella's mind should be prepared for the terrible reality in

this way.

The battle of love was fought and won that day at Nicholas's bedside,

and, as usual, woman was victorious.

I shall not weary the reader with all that was said. The concluding

sentences will suffice.

"No, Nicholas," said Bella, holding the right hand of the wounded

soldier, while my mother looked on with tearful, and Ivanka with eager,

eyes, "no, I will not be discarded. You must not presume, on the

strength of your being weak, to talk nonsense. I hold you, sir, to your

engagement, unless, indeed, you admit yourself to be a faithless man,

and wish to cast me off. But you must not dispute with me in your

present condition. I shall exercise the right of a wife by ordering you

to hold your tongue unless you drop the subject. The doctor says you

must not be allowed to talk or excite yourself, and the doctor's orders,

you know, must be obeyed."

"Even if he should order a shattered man to renounce all thoughts of

marriage?" asked Nicholas.

"If he were to do that," retorted Bella, with a smile, "I should

consider your case a serious one, and require a consultation with at

least two other doctors before agreeing to submit to his orders. Now,

the question is settled, so we will say no more about it. Meanwhile you

need careful nursing, and mother and I are here to attend upon you."

Thus with gentle raillery she led the poor fellow to entertain a faint

hope that recovery might be possible, and that the future might not be

so appallingly black as it had seemed before. Still the hope was

extremely faint at first, for no one knew so well as himself what a

wreck he was, and how impossible it would be for him, under the most

favourable circumstances, ever again to stand up and look like his

former self. Poor Bella had to force her pleasantry and her lightsome

tones, for she also had fears that he might still succumb, but, being

convinced that a cheerful, hopeful state of mind was the best of all

medicines, she set herself to administer it in strong doses.

The result was that Nicholas began to recover rapidly. Time passed, and

by slow degrees he migrated from his bed to the sofa. Then a few of his

garments were put on, and he tried to stand on his remaining leg. The

doctor, who assisted me in moving and dressing the poor invalid,

comforted him with the assurance that the stump of the other would, in

course of time, be well enough to have a cork foot and ankle attached to

it.

"And do you know," he added, with a smile, "they make these things so

well now that one can scarcely tell a false foot from a real one,--with

joint and moveable instep, and toes that work with springs, so that

people can walk with them quite creditably--indeed they can; I do not

jest, I assure you."

"Nothing, however, can replace the left hand or the lost eye," returned

Nicholas, with a faint attempt at a smile.

"There, my dear sir," returned the doctor, with animation, "you are

quite wrong. The eye, indeed, can never be restored, though it will

partially close, and become so familiar to you and your friends that it

will almost cease to be noticed or remembered; but we shall have a stump

made for the lower arm, with a socket to which you will be able to fix a

fork or a spoon, or--"

"Why, doctor," interrupted Nicholas, "what a spoon _you_ must be to--"

"Come," returned the doctor heartily, "that'll do. My services won't be

required here much longer I see, for I invariably find that when a

patient begins to make bad jokes, there is nothing far wrong with him."

One morning, when we had dressed our invalid, and laid him on the sofa,

he and I chanced to be left alone.

"Come here, Jeff," he said, "assist me to the glass--I want to have a

look at myself."

It was the first time he had expressed such a desire, and I hesitated

for a moment, not feeling sure of the effect that the sight might have

on him. Then I went to him, and only remarking in a quiet tone, "You'll

improve, you know, in the course of time," I led him to the

looking-glass.

He turned slightly pale, and a look of blank surprise flitted across his

face, but he recovered instantly, and stood for a few seconds surveying

himself with a sad expression.

Well might he look sad, for the figure that met his gaze stooped like

that of an aged man; the head was shorn of its luxuriant curls; the

terrible sabre-cut across the cheek, from the temple to the chin, which

had destroyed the eye, had left a livid wound, a single glance at which

told that it would always remain as a ghastly blemish; and there were

other injuries of a slighter nature on various parts of the face, which

marred his visage dreadfully.

"Yes, Jeff," he said, turning away slowly, with a sigh, and limping back

to his couch, "there's room for improvement. I thought myself not a

bad-looking fellow once. It's no great matter to have that fancy taken

out of me, perhaps, but I grieve for Bella, and I really do think that

you must persuade her to give up all idea of--"

"Now, Nic," said I, "don't talk nonsense."

"But I don't talk nonsense," he exclaimed, flushing with sudden energy,

"I mean what I say. Do you suppose I can calmly allow that dear girl to

sacrifice herself to a mere wreck, that cannot hope to be long a

cumberer of the ground?"

"And do you suppose," I retorted, with vehemence, "that I can calmly

allow my sister to be made a widow for life?--a widow, I say, for she is

already married to you in spirit, and nothing will ever induce her to

untie the knot. You don't know Bella--ah! you needn't smile,--you don't

indeed. She is the most perversely obstinate girl I ever met with.

Last night, when I mentioned to her that you had been speaking of

yourself as a mere wreck, she said in a low, easy-going, meek tone,

`Jeff, I mean to cling to that wreck as long as it will float, and

devote my life to repairing it.' Now, when Bella says anything in a

low, easy-going, and especially in a meek tone, it is utterly useless to

oppose her: she has made up her mind, drawn her sword and flung away the

scabbard, double-shotted all her guns, charged every torpedo in the

ship, and, finally, nailed her colours to the mast."

"Then," said Nicholas, with a laugh, "I suppose I must give in."

"Yes, my boy, you had better. If you don't, just think what will be the

consequences. First of all, you will die sooner than there is any

occasion for; then Bella will pine, mope, get into bad health, and

gradually fade away. That will break down my mother, whose susceptible

spirit could not withstand the shock. Of course, after that my own

health would give way, and the hopes of a dear little--well, that is to

say, ruination and widespread misery would be the result of your

unnatural and useless obstinacy."

"To save you all from that," said Nicholas, "_of course_ I must give

in."

And Nicholas did give in, and the result was not half so disastrous as

he had feared.

In the Track of the Troops · 第 59 / 64 题