DR. SCOVILLE'S PATIENT
The ball from De Banyan's pistol had passed through the right side of the
officer; and he sank upon the floor, the blood flowing copiously from the
wound. These proceedings were so irregular, that Somers could not
reconcile himself to them. He was wounded himself; but, when the officer
fell, he was full of sympathy for him. It was evident that the sufferer
would bleed to death in a short time, if left to himself without any
attention; and Somers could not endure the thought of letting even an
enemy die in this forsaken condition.
"Come, my boy; we have no time to lose. It's daylight now, and we ought
to be five miles from the city before this time," said De Banyan, as he
moved towards the stairs. "Take the man's pistol and ammunition, and come
along as fast as you can."
"Will you leave this gentleman in this condition?" asked Somers, gazing
with pitying tenderness at the pale face of the fallen officer.
"Leave him? Of course; we can't take him with us."
"But he will bleed to death if we leave him here."
"Let him bleed to death; I can't help that. Many a better man than he has
bled to death since this war began. Come along, Somers! What is the
matter with your arm?" demanded he, when he saw that it hung useless at
his side.
"I was hit."
"Hit! We are lost, then!"
"No, we are not lost, either. I am not killed," replied Somers, whose arm
was still numb from the effect of the shot.
"That's a misfortune. I am afraid it will spoil everything. Can you sit
on a horse?"
"Of course I can. But I can't bear to let this man die here alone. He is
a brave fellow, and deserves a better fate."
"Come along, Somers! You are an odd stick, when you are wounded, to
trouble yourself about your enemies. Let me see your arm."
The captain examined the wounded member, which was now bleeding very
freely. He tied a handkerchief around the arm, and did the best which the
circumstances would admit for his friend. He then led the way
down-stairs, where the horses were impatiently waiting for their riders.
Jenny was a noble mare, and the orderly's horse was an excellent animal.
De Banyan, knowing how much might depend upon the endurance of the horses
in the flight before them, filled the bag with corn in the loft, after he
had helped Somers to mount the horse of Peters, which appeared to be the
steadier beast of the two.
The noise of the affray in the loft had probably been heard by some of
the occupants of the house; and, just as the fugitives had mounted the
horses, a black woman from the dwelling approached the stable. She gazed
with astonishment and alarm at the riders, and seemed to be satisfied
that all was not right.
"Your master is up in the loft," said Somers, as they rode by her. "He is
hurt, and wants attention."
"Now whip up, Somers. We must make quick time; for we shall have the
whole city after us in ten minutes," said De Banyan, as he urged Jenny to
the top of her speed.
The spirited animal seemed as willing to exert herself for the enemies as
the friends of the Southern Confederacy; thus proving that she was a
neutral horse, or cherished Union sentiments. But the other horse could
not keep pace with her, and De Banyan was compelled to restrain her
speed. The fugitives had scarcely appeared in the street before a hue and
cry was raised; for the place had been thoroughly aroused by the clamor
which the troopers had created. Still, there was nothing in sight which
promised to offer any serious resistance to their progress.
A few moments brought them to the outskirts of the town; though in what
direction, or to what point, the road they had taken would lead them,
neither De Banyan nor Somers had the most remote idea. To go in the wrong
direction was equivalent to plunging into certain ruin; to go in any
direction was hardly less perilous; for the rebel cavalry was out upon
every road, intent upon capturing the deserter and the Yankee. As they
emerged from the more thickly settled parts of the city, they discovered
a negro approaching them.
"Where does this road lead to?" demanded De Banyan, reining in his fiery
steed.
"Prince George's Court House, massa," replied the man. "Wha' for you
gwine down dar?"
De Banyan was not disposed to answer any unnecessary questions, and again
spurred on his horse.
"See here, massa!" shouted the negro.
"What do you want?" asked De Banyan impatiently; for, being a Southerner
himself, he had no particular respect for the negro race.
"Don't go down dar, massa."
"Why not?"
"Git cotched if you do, massa," said the man with an expressive grin. "De
sodgers on de horses is down dar arter you."
"How do you know they are after us, you black rascal?"
"Kase dey ax dis chile if he see two men, one ob 'em dressed like de
'federate ossifer, and de odder a Yank. Dis nigger didn't see no sich
pussons den; but, golly, sees um now fur sartin. You done git cotched as
shore as you was born, massa, if you go down dar."
"Where shall we go, then?"
"Dunno, massa; but you mustn't be seen gwine down dar."
"How many soldiers did you meet?"
"Four, sar."
"This won't do, Somers. How is your arm?"
"It begins to ache. We may as well go forward as back," said Somers, who
was now suffering severely from his wound, which had not been improved by
the hard gallop of the horse he rode.
"Who lives in that house?" demanded De Banyan of the negro, pointing to a
splendid dwelling a short distance ahead.
"Dr. Scoville, massa."
"Doctor?" replied the captain, glancing at Somers.
"Yes, sar; Dr. Scoville. Dat's a mighty fine mar you rides, massa. I
reckon dat's Captain Sheffield's mar."
"Very likely."
"Don't mind me, massa; dis chile's a Union man for shore," grinned the
negro.
"All the negroes are Union men," replied Somers faintly.
"Dat's so, massa!"
"What's Dr. Scoville?" asked De Banyan hopefully.
"Secesh, massa--drefful secesh. He done been in de army fur a surgeon."
"He is a dangerous man, then."
"Dar, massa, dar!" shouted the negro suddenly, as he pointed down the
road over which the fugitives had just come. "Dey's some more arter you."
De Banyan started his horse again, followed by Somers; but it was evident
from the appearance of the latter that the chase was nearly finished for
him. He was beginning to feel very faint from the loss of blood, while
the pain of his wounded arm was almost unsupportable. The gait of the
horse seemed to wrench the bones asunder, and cause the shattered parts
to grate against each other.
"Hurry up, Somers, my dear boy," said his companion, as he glanced back
at the pale face of his friend.
"I am afraid I can't go much farther, De Banyan," replied Somers. "I am
very faint. I feel sick."
"Cheer up, and make one effort more. The rebels are upon us!"
"I cannot. I shall fall from the horse, I am afraid."
"Don't do that."
"I won't if I can help it; but the motion of the horse almost kills me.
Leave me, De Banyan; save yourself if you can."
"Leave you? I haven't the remotest idea of doing anything of the sort."
"Better go on, and save yourself. It is all up with me."
"A mother would sooner leave her baby than I would leave you," replied De
Banyan in tones as tender as a woman's. "I'll never leave you, Somers. If
you go to Richmond, I shall go with you."
"You cannot do me any good. Save yourself before it is too late."
"Not I."
"I beg you----"
"Cease your blarney, my dear boy! We are one flesh; and we will hang
together to the end of life, or _at_ the end of it, as the case may be.
Here, Somers, stick to your horse a moment more, and we will call and see
the doctor."
"Dr. Scoville!" exclaimed Somers, alarmed at the idea.
"Very likely he is a good surgeon. You are on the sick-list now; mind
what I say, and do just what I tell you."
De Banyan, without stating what he intended to do, dashed up the roadway
leading to Dr. Scoville's house. It was evident that he was about to
resort to some desperate expedient to retrieve the shattered fortunes of
his party; but he kept his own counsel; and Somers yielded himself to the
master will of his companion like a child, as indeed he was in his
exhausted and suffering condition. The roadway led to the rear of the
house where the stable was located; and De Banyan reined up his foaming
steed as soon as he reached the corner of the building.
"Keep still a moment, Somers, and I'll have you taken care of," said De
Banyan, as he rode back to a point where he could see the road without
being seen.
It was evident that they had been observed by the party of horsemen which
had just come out of the city; and he wished to ascertain whether they
had seen him turn in at the doctor's premises. The pursuers (for every
mounted man was a pursuer on that eventful morning) were riding in every
direction in search of the fugitives. He hoped they would pass by,
satisfied that any person who should boldly call upon Dr. Scoville must
be a rebel.
He was disappointed. When the party reached the road, they reined up
their horses; and De Banyan, without losing a moment, dismounted,
fastened Jenny to a post in the yard, and ran down to intercept the
troopers. The captain walked with the quick, sharp, consequential tramp
of a military commander; and, when the soldiers saw him, they
involuntarily saluted him.
"What are you doing up here?" he demanded in tones of authority.
"We are looking for the prisoners that runned away," replied a corporal.
"Well, do you expect to find them in the dwelling-house of Dr. Scoville?
Ride down the road as fast as you can, and turn to the first left. If you
meet the major, report Captain Sheffield badly wounded--shot by one of
the prisoners."
"Then the prisoners have gone down this way?"
"Certainly they have. Off with you as fast as you can!"
The corporal saluted, wheeled his horse, and dashed off, followed by the
rest of the party. De Banyan wiped away the cold sweat from his brow, and
returned to his suffering companion. He helped him to dismount and seated
him on a block while he secured the horse. By this time, a couple of
negro women came out of the house. They were the early risers of the
family, and at once manifested the most abundant sympathy for the
sufferer. The doors of the house were thrown wide open to him; and
Captain de Banyan, supporting Somers, followed the servants into the
sitting-room, where the patient was laid upon the sofa in a fainting
condition.
"Now call your master," said De Banyan, with as much assurance as though
he had been the lord of the manor.
"Yes, massa," replied one of the women as she hastened to obey the order.
"How do you feel, my dear boy?" said De Banyan, bending over his charge.
But Somers was past answering. He had fainted from loss of blood and the
agony of his wound. The resolute captain did not wait for Dr. Scoville in
this emergency; but, taking a bottle of cologne from the mantel, he
applied himself with skill and vigor to the restoration of his patient.
While he was thus engaged, the doctor made his appearance. He was a man
of fifty, of forbidding aspect and rough exterior.
"Who are you, sir?" demanded he in brusk tones, placing himself in front
of the captain, and without bestowing more than a glance at the patient
on the sofa.
"Captain Sheffield," replied De Banyan as sharply as the question had
been put.
"Are you, indeed? Then you have altered a great deal since I saw you
yesterday," added Dr. Scoville, with an expression of malignant triumph
on his face.
This reply was a damper on any little scheme which the over-confident De
Banyan had proposed to carry out; but the captain was a profound student
in the mysteries of human nature, and at once correctly read the
character of the gentleman who stood before him.
"You didn't see me yesterday, and you know you didn't," he replied in
tones hardly less savage than those of his involuntary host.
"That's very true; I did not," said the doctor.
"This point settled, I'll thank you to turn to the next one, which is the
patient before you."
"You are a plain-spoken man," added Dr. Scoville, still gazing intently
into the face of the captain; who, however, returned the look as
resolutely and as earnestly as it was given.
"I am; I don't waste words when my friend is dying, for aught I know.
Will you attend to this man?"
"Who is he?"
"He is a man shot through the arm, and needing instant surgical
attendance," answered De Banyan impatiently. "It isn't necessary to know
any more before you examine him."
"Good!" exclaimed the doctor with a smile such as that in which a hyena
might be supposed to indulge when pleased, if hyenas ever are pleased.
He turned to Somers, and proceeded to examine into his condition. The
coat of the patient was removed from his insensible form, and he was
carefully disposed on the sofa, according to the directions of the
doctor; the captain and the negro women assisting in the work. Though the
surgeon was as rough as a bear in his tone and manner, he was as tender
as a loving mother in his treatment of the sufferer, and handled him as
carefully as though he had been a new-born babe. The blood was stanched,
and the wound dressed as skilfully as human hands and human knowledge
could perform the operation.
"What do you think of him?" asked De Banyan, full of anxiety for his
suffering companion.
"He won't die just yet; but he may lose his arm."
"Good heavens! do you think so?" exclaimed the captain.
"No; I don't think so."
"What did you say so for, then?"
"I didn't say so."
"Didn't you say he would lose his arm?" demanded De Banyan savagely.
"I didn't say so."
"What did you say, then?"
"I said he might lose his arm. You may lose your arm; but I think you are
more likely to lose your head. Who is this young man?"
"He is a friend of mine; and, as I find it necessary to be entirely
candid with an old fellow like you, I shall answer no questions in regard
to him at present."
"Indeed!"
"Not a question, Dr. Scoville. I intend to have him stay at your house
till he is able to join his regiment; and I intend to stay with him."
"You do me unmerited honor by making my humble house your home," said the
doctor satirically.
"I think you are worthy of the honor, Dr. Scoville. As your humble house,
I think it is very well got up, creditable to your taste, and altogether
a fine place."
"Thank you," growled the host. "I suppose you have no objection to my
informing the Confederate States military officers in the city of your
presence here?"
"Not the slightest," answered De Banyan promptly. "I propose to inform
them myself in due time."
"What did you say your name was?"
"Captain Sheffield."
"Of Petersburg?"
"No, sir."
"Not of Petersburg?"
"No, sir; of Nashville, Tennessee, which I can further inform you is the
capital of the State. I have the honor to be a captain in the Third
Tennessee. I served in Mexico, in the Crimea, and in Italy. I was present
at four battles in the Crimea, seven in Italy, five in Mexico; I have
been engaged in nine battles of the present war, and have been wounded
six times."
"Were you ever killed?"
"Never was so unfortunate. Can I furnish you with any further
information?"
"No more at present," replied the doctor, compressing his lips,
apparently to keep from laughing, but really because he could not think
of anything sharp enough to dash so ready a talker. "If you do me the
honor to remain here a week, I shall have better opportunities of hearing
your marvelous experience, Captain Sheffield. Ah, what have we here?"
continued he as three horsemen galloped up the roadway.
A violent knocking was presently heard at the side door of the house, and
Dr. Scoville hastened to learn the errand of the excited visitors.