On that eventful evening, Mr. Simlins had a husking bee; and in his
barn were met a fair representation of the Pattaquasset men and
boys--especially boys. And with busy hands and tongues the work went
on, Mr. Simlins himself among the busiest. But in the midst of work and
merriment though the fair stillness of the night was unheeded, the
sudden interruption which came brought everyone to his feet; it was a
loud shriek from the house, a woman's shriek.
"Hold on!" said Mr. Simlins--"you all go ahead and I'll go quiet the
distractions. I suppose Mrs. Hummins has seen another rat in the dairy.
No--thank'ee--I like to kill my own rats myself and then I know they
_air_ killed."
So letting nobody follow him, Mr. Simlins left the barn and went over
to the house. In the kitchen he found the full array of female
servants, of his own house and the neighbours', one of whom hiding her
face was rocking back and forth with the most incoherent exclamations;
while all the rest, standing by in various attitudes, seemed to have
got an extra pair of eyes apiece for the express purpose of looking on.
"Well!"--said Mr. Simlins--"where is it? I've got my stick ready.
Hain't bit anybody, has he?--Or has somebody got my silver spoons?
What's to pay?"
Now silver spoons there were none in Mr. Simlins' economy, and this was
a proverbial expression well known in the household.
"O Mr. Simlins! Mr. Simlins!" cried the hysterical one, with a shudder,
"there's a murdered man at the front door!--and I did shut it, but he
might come round this way!"
"You be hanged! and shut up!"--was Mr. Simlins' remark in answer to
this statement; and flinging down his stick on the kitchen floor with a
rattle, he strode to the front door and opened it, having had the
precaution to take a candle with him.
There was certainly a figure there, not standing, but sitting on the
bench in an attitude that spoke of faintness; and of all the men in
Pattaquasset, Mr. Simlins was perhaps most surprised to see that it was
Mr. Linden. A white handkerchief ineffectually bound round his arm, but
served to shew why he had tried to secure it there.
Mr. Simlins surveyed it all with his candle in about three seconds, and
then said hoarsely, "What's this? Can you speak to me?"
But the power for that was gone, though a little parting of the lips
spoke the intent. Mr. Simlins set down his candle and went back to the
kitchen.
"Get some brandy, you fools!" said he. "Here's a friend o' mine got
faint for want of his supper--been too long out shootin'. Fetch a glass
of water here too! Jenny Lowndes, you go tell Jem Waters that 'ere
plaguey black heifer has got out of the yard. You send him to me, and
if you spile the frolic with your story I'll have nothing more to do
with you, I give you my word!"
Mr. Simlins was obeyed. He himself went back with the water and the
brandy, which he tenderly applied to Mr. Linden's forehead and lips,
and seeing the handkerchief's ineffectual disposition had taken it off
and bound it on tight by the time Jem Waters, one of his farm hands,
had reached the porch. The two then taking the sufferer in their arms
carried him into the house and into Mr. Simlins' room, which was on the
first floor, where they laid him on the bed. Jem Waters was then
despatched for Dr. Harrison, with orders to hold his tongue and not say
what he was sent for. And Jem Waters, the swiftest runner in
Pattaquasset, set off and ran every step of the way, till the doctor
was found.
The cold applications, the resting posture, seemed to do their work,
and Mr. Simlins was rewarded with a smile from both eyes and lips. He
did not speak again however till he had seen a spoonful of brandy enter
the lips; then with a grave concern that did not seem like Mr. Simlins,
he said, in a subdued tone,
"How do you find yourself? Can you speak now?"
"Not much--" Mr. Linden answered with some effort. "I find myself in
very kind hands."
"Are you hurt anywhere else?"
"Somewhat--the shot scattered, I think."
There was a smothered execration, and then it was a very kind hand that
renewed the touch of cold water to his forehead, though a big, brown
and rough one.
"I've sent for the doctor--and now I'll get you a nurse. You keep
quiet, till you can do something else."
Mr. Simlins gently went forth; and in a minute after was in the midst
of his husking party in the barn.
"Reuben Taylor!" said the farmer--"You don't mind takin' a run, do you?
Wouldn't you just as lieves help me catch that black heifer--afore she
gets to Pequot?"
Reuben started up, and signified his ability to catch anything
whatever. He was not alone; for half a dozen others volunteered to be
equally ready.
"You keep where you be!" said the farmer with a wave of his hand to the
half dozen. "I don't let everybody chase that 'ere heifer--you've got
to catch her by the head and not by the foot, I tell _you!_ Reuben, you
come along."
And getting him well outside of the barn and half way towards the
house, Mr. Simlins said in a very low growl indeed,
"Mr. Linden's here--he's been hurt, somehow, in his arm--and he's kind
'o faint; I want you to stay by him till the doctor comes, and then let
me know. If I don't keep in the barn they'll raise Plute--or they'll
come in--and I'd as lieves they'd do one as 'tother."
By this time Mr. Simlins had reached the door of his room, and ushered
Reuben in. He heard--and long remembered--the smothered cry which
seemed to come no further than Reuben's lips as he stepped within the
door; but after that the boy might have been made of iron, for his
strength and steadiness. He walked up to the bedside and knelt down by
it, with a look which again Mr. Simlins could not soon forget; but his
face was quite calm, except in the first moment when Mr. Linden looked
at him. The farmer was a man of iron too, yet his voice was low and
changed from its usual wont when he spoke.
"It's only loss of blood, I guess," he said. "He'll get along. You give
him brandy, and water, Reuben, if he wants it; and call me when Dr.
Harrison comes. Can I do anything else?" The last words were gently,
even tenderly, addressed to the sufferer.
"No--" Mr. Linden said, with that same pleasant look of the eyes. "I
think there is not much the matter--except what you said."
Mr. Simlins stalked off and was rather more grim than usual in the
barn. The huskers had returned to their merriment, and the slight sound
of wheels in the road from time to time of course attracted no
attention. After one of these signals, however, Jem Waters appeared at
the front door.
"Mr. Simlins there's a gentleman wants to see yer. I'll take yer place."
"Very few strides did Mr. Simlins make between the barn and the house,
and slight was his stay of greeting to Dr. Harrison.
"He's in here--" said he leading the way.
Reuben was just as Mr. Simlins had left him,--it seemed as if he had
not once taken his eyes from the calm face before him. For very calm it
was--reposeful; with not a line disturbed except where a slight
contraction of the brow told of some physical discomfort. But he was
not asleep, for he looked at them the moment they entered; and Reuben
rose then, and stood leaning against the bedpost.
"I'm sorry to see you so," said the doctor. "What's the matter? and
where?"
A little smile, a glance towards the bandaged arm, seemed to say there
was nothing very bad, but that what there was it would be easier for
him to have the doctor find out for himself.
Nor further did the doctor ask, but proceeded to work. And it appeared
soon that Dr. Harrison at play, and Dr. Harrison at work, were two
people--yet the same! The doctor did not indeed play at his work; yet
the work was done with the same skilful ease that he brought to his
play; an ignorant eye could see as much; and Mr. Simlins jealously
looking on, felt very soon at ease as to the doctor's part in the scene
before him. Dr. Harrison knew his business, and knew it well.
Mr. Linden's coat was removed, in the course of which operation a keen
glance of the doctor's eye over at Reuben shewed that he recognized
him; but then he attended to nothing but his patient. He found that a
number of duck shot had been lodged in Mr. Linden's side and arm, the
latter of which was somewhat lacerated, and this was the principal
wound. The others were slight, the shot having taken a slanting
direction and so rather grazed than penetrated. Dr. Harrison with care
and skill went on to extract the shot and dress the wounds, which he
did after the happy and simple regimen of modern discoveries; and
ordered certain restoratives which he judged his patient needed. He did
not speak except on business till he had seen these doing their work
and Mr. Linden able to reply to him. And then his first words were to
the farmer; who, not asking a question, had stood by as silent and
watchful as Reuben himself; nearly as grave.
"There's nothing the matter with him, Mr. Simlins," he said. "He'll be
able to shoot you in a day or two--if he has a mind. What have you been
doing to him?"
"_Me!_ I've been actin' the part of the good Syrian to him," growled
Mr. Simlins;--"only I always thought before, the oil and wine went on
the outside instead of the inside."
"I dare say," said the doctor lightly, probably not understanding the
allusion. And then he seated himself on the side of the bed, looking
down at his patient very much in his usual manner.
"You'll have made yourself the hero of Pattaquasset, Linden," he said.
"There won't another fellow stand a chance to be looked at for a month
to come--from here to Quilipeak. You ought to be indicted for breach of
the public peace."
"Don't try it--" said Mr. Linden. "I should doubtless prevail with the
jury too."
"Ha?--" said the doctor with another glance over at Reuben. "Now how
did this come about?"
"Quite suddenly--as I was walking home."
"Where were you?"
"About a mile from here, in the open road."
"Who was fool enough to be shooting ducks in the open road and mistake
you for a specimen?--You are not at all the sort of man I should ever
think of making game of."
"I tried hard to find out who it was," said Mr. Linden,--"but he was a
better runner than I, or else my strength gave out."
"Why how did the thing happen?" said the doctor. "Run!--you don't
suppose the fellow meant to hit you?"
"He meant to run--" said Mr. Linden.
The doctor looked at Mr. Simlins, with a serio-comical expression.
"Worse and worse!" said he. "It is a full-grown, regular built
adventure; and this is a hero from head to foot."
"Which way did the fellow run?" said Mr. Simlins, with a growl that was
ominous.
"Straight ahead--till he got into the woods," said Mr. Linden, smiling
at his host. "But he probably turned there, Mr. Simlins."
"I'll have him!" said Mr. Simlins--"I'll foller his tracks, if they
lead me to the two poles of the axletree! You tell me where you see
him, and I'll set runners on, that won't give out neither."
"They'd be as likely to run against each other as any way, in this mist
to-night," said the doctor. "You'd better leave all that till the
morning. I'll see you again to-morrow," said he holding out his hand to
Mr. Linden. "I suppose they don't know what is become of you at Mrs.
Derrick's--I will stop there as I go home and make myself as famous as
I can. Though 'the first bearer of unwelcome news' does not recommend
himself to favour, yet if they have heard anything, on the whole they
will thank me. I'll take my risk."
"I am a little inclined to ride down with you," said Mr. Linden.
"Folly!" said the doctor. "Mr. Simlins is acting a good part by you, he
says,--which I presume is true, though I did not understand his terms;
but I have no doubt he'll prove himself good for a day or two's board
and lodging. I wish I had had the pleasure of finding you at my own
door, instead of his having it!"
"The question is whether I shall be good for a day or two--I have no
doubt of Mr. Simlins."
"Does that mean you are going to disobey me? You grudge me that little
bit of famousness?"
"I shall hear the orders _before_ I disobey--"
The doctor looked at him a minute. "Linden,"--said he,--"you're
alarmingly well! but you must remain in quarters for another night or
two. It would be dangerous to let you go. I can't allow it. Good
night!--"
Either the stimulus of the doctor's presence had been strong, or the
effort to appear well had been fatiguing; and Dr. Harrison would have
pronounced another verdict had he seen his patient ten minutes later.
When Mr. Simlins came back into the room, Mr. Linden looked pale and
exhausted. He roused himself however, at once.
"Mr. Simlins," he said, "will you drive me into Pattaquasset to-night."
"You aint a goin' to do that?" said the farmer.
"That was my intention. Why not?"
"You aint fit for it, no ways! Can't you stop here one night and be
peaceable?"
"Yes, both," said his guest smiling. "But if I do not go, I must send,"
he added after a minute's silence, during which perhaps some feeling of
weakness came in aid of the doctor's orders.--"And I do not think it
would hurt me to go."
"Send!" said Mr. Simlins--"there's lots to send. Here's Reuben, and Sam
Stoutenburgh--the boys aint gone yet--and here's me. Who do you want to
send to?"
"I want to send _for_ two or three things out of my room. Reuben can
go--and Sam may sit here with me, if you will sleep any better for it,
Mr. Simlins. That is what _you_ must do," he said with a look of warm
interest and kindness.
"Sleep!" growled Mr. Simlins. "It's about all I'm good for!" (Which was
not at all Mr. Simlins' abstract judgment concerning himself--purely
comparative, on the present occasion.) "Well--you tell Reuben what you
want him to do, and he can take the brown mare--Jem'll have her
ready--and I'll send Sam to you; and after I get rid of all creation,
I'll come myself. You'd think all creation was just made, and the chips
about!"
After which setting forth of the state of his affairs Mr Simlins went
forth.
"I guess, sir," said Jem Waters when he had done his task with the
mare, "I guess I'd as good sleep in the front porch to-night. 'Cause if
there'll be one here, there'll be forty."
"What'll the forty do?"
"Knock the house down, sir, if there's nobody there to stop 'em. Bless
you, sir, all Pattaquasset 'll come to hear how Mr. Linden is, afore
day. There won't one on 'em wait two minutes after he hears the tale.
It's all about by this time--I made one gal mad by not tellin' her, and
I guess likely she's made it up for herself and other folks by now."