The Spy, James Fenimore Cooper [uplifting book club books TXT] 📗

yet burning with curiosity to know the meaning of certain portentous lights to which the other so often alluded, she ventured to ask,—

“If them lights he spoke of were what was called northern lights in these parts?”

In charity to her ignorance, the surgeon would have entered into an elaborate explanation of his meaning, had he not been interrupted by the mirth of Lawton. The trooper had listened so far with great composure; but now he laughed until his aching bones reminded him of his fall, and the tears rolled over his cheeks in larger drops than had ever been seen there before. At length the offended physician seized an opportunity of a pause to say,—

“To you, Captain Lawton, it may be a source of triumph, that an uneducated woman should make a mistake in a subject on which men of science have long been at variance; but yet you find this respectable matron does not reject the lights—does not reject the use of proper instruments in repairing injuries sustained by the human frame. You may possibly remember, sir, her allusion to the use of the needle.”

“Aye,” cried the delighted trooper, “to mend the peddler’s breeches.”

Katy drew up in evident displeasure, and prompt to vindicate her character for more lofty acquirements, she said,—

“’Twas not a common use that I put that needle to—but one of much greater virtue.”

“Explain yourself, madam,” said the surgeon impatiently, “that this gentleman may see how little reason he has for exultation.”

Thus solicited, Katy paused to collect sufficient eloquence to garnish her narrative. The substance of her tale was, that a child who had been placed by the guardians of the poor in the keeping of Harvey, had, in the absence of its master, injured itself badly in the foot by a large needle. The offending instrument had been carefully greased, wrapped in woolen, and placed in a certain charmed nook of the chimney; while the foot, from a fear of weakening the incantation, was left in a state of nature. The arrival of the peddler had altered the whole of this admirable treatment; and the consequences were expressed by Katy, as she concluded her narrative, by saying,—

“’Twas no wonder the boy died of a lockjaw!”

Doctor Sitgreaves looked out of the window in admiration of the brilliant morning, striving all he could to avoid the basilisk’s eyes of his comrade. He was impelled, by a feeling that he could not conquer, however, to look Captain Lawton in the face. The trooper had arranged every muscle of his countenance to express sympathy for the fate of the poor child; but the exultation of his eyes cut the astounded man of science to the quick; he muttered something concerning the condition of his patients, and retreated with precipitation.

Miss Peyton entered into the situation of things at the house of the peddler, with all the interest of her excellent feelings; she listened patiently while Katy recounted, more particularly, the circumstances of the past night as they had occurred. The spinster did not forget to dwell on the magnitude of the pecuniary loss sustained by Harvey, and in no manner spared her invectives, at his betraying a secret which might so easily have been kept.

“For, Miss Peyton,” continued the housekeeper, after a pause to take breath, “I would have given up life before I would have given up that secret. At the most, they could only have killed him, and now a body may say that they have slain both soul and body; or, what’s the same thing, they have made him a despisable vagabond. I wonder who he thinks would be his wife, or who would keep his house, For my part, my good name is too precious to be living with a lone man; though, for the matter of that, he is never there. I am resolved to tell him this day, that stay there a single woman, I will not an hour after the funeral; and marry him I don’t think I will, unless he becomes steadier and more of a home body.”

The mild mistress of the Locusts suffered the exuberance of the housekeeper’s feelings to expend itself, and then, by one or two judicious questions, that denoted a more intimate knowledge of the windings of the human heart in matters of Cupid than might fairly be supposed to belong to a spinster, she extracted enough from Katy to discover the improbability of Harvey’s ever presuming to offer himself, with his broken fortunes, to the acceptance of Katharine Haynes. She therefore mentioned her own want of assistance in the present state of her household, and expressed a wish that Katy would change her residence to the Locusts, in case the peddler had no further use for her services. After a few preliminary conditions on the part of the wary housekeeper, the arrangement was concluded; and making a few more piteous lamentations on the weight of her own losses and the stupidity of Harvey, united with some curiosity to know the future fate of the peddler, Katy withdrew to make the necessary preparations for the approaching funeral, which was to take place that day.

During the interview between the two females, Lawton, through delicacy, had withdrawn. Anxiety took him to the room of Captain Singleton. The character of this youth, it has already been shown, endeared him in a peculiar manner to every officer in the corps. The singularly mild deportment of the young dragoon had on so many occasions been proved not to proceed from want of resolution that his almost feminine softness of manner and appearance had failed to bring him into disrepute, even in that band of partisan warriors.

To the major he was as dear as a brother, and his easy submission to the directions of his surgeon had made him a marked favorite with Dr. Sitgreaves. The rough usage the corps often received in its daring attacks had brought each of its officers, in succession, under the temporary keeping of the surgeon. To Captain Singleton the man of science had decreed the palm of docility, on such occasions, and Captain Lawton he had fairly blackballed. He frequently declared, with unconquerable simplicity and earnestness of manner, that it gave him more pleasure to see the former brought in wounded than any officer in the squadron, and that the latter afforded him the least; a compliment and condemnation that were usually received by the first of the parties with a quiet smile of good nature, and by the last with a grave bow of thanks. On the present occasion, the mortified surgeon and exulting trooper met in the room of Captain Singleton, as a place where they could act on common ground. Some time was occupied in joint attentions to the comfort of the wounded officer, and the doctor retired to an apartment prepared for his own accommodation; here, within a few minutes, he was surprised by the entrance of Lawton. The triumph of the trooper had been so complete, that he felt he could afford to be generous, and commencing by voluntarily throwing aside his coat, he cried carelessly,—

“Sitgreaves, administer a little of the aid of the lights of science to my body, if you please.”

The surgeon was beginning to feel this was a subject that was intolerable, but venturing a glance towards his comrade, he saw with surprise the preparations he had made, and an air of sincerity about him, that was unusual to his manner when making such a request. Changing his intended burst of resentment to a tone of civil inquiry, he said,—

“Does Captain Lawton want anything at my hands?”

“Look for yourself, my dear sir,” said the trooper mildly. “Here seem to be most of the colors of the rainbow, on this shoulder.”

“You have reason for saying so,” said the other, handling the part with great tenderness and consummate skill. “But happily nothing is broken. It is wonderful how well you escaped!”

“I have been a tumbler from my youth, and I am past minding a few falls from a horse; but, Sitgreaves,” he added with affection, and pointing to a scar on his body, “do you remember this bit of work?”

“Perfectly well, Jack; it was bravely obtained, and neatly extracted; but don’t you think I had better apply an oil to these bruises?”

“Certainly,” said Lawton, with unexpected condescension.

“Now, my dear boy,” cried the doctor, exultantly, as he busied himself in applying the remedy to the hurts, “do you not think it would have been better to have done all this last night?”

“Quite probable.”

“Yes, Jack, but if you had let me perform the operation of phlebotomy when I first saw you, it would have been of infinite service.”

“No phlebotomy,” said the other, positively.

“It is now too late; but a dose of oil would carry off the humors famously.”

To this the captain made no reply, but grated his teeth, in a way that showed the fortress of his mouth was not to be assailed without a resolute resistance; and the experienced physician changed the subject by saying,—

“It is a pity, John, that you did not catch the rascal, after the danger and trouble you incurred.”

The captain of dragoons made no reply; and, while placing some bandages on the wounded shoulder, the surgeon continued,—

“If I have any wish at all to destroy human life, it is to have the pleasure of seeing that traitor hanged.”

“I thought your business was to cure, and not to slay,” said the trooper, dryly.

“Aye! but he has caused us such heavy losses by his information, that I sometimes feel a very unsophistical temper towards that spy.”

“You should not encourage such feelings of animosity to any of your fellow creatures,” returned Lawton, in a tone that caused the operator to drop a pin he was arranging in the bandages from his hand. He looked the patient in the face to remove all doubts of his identity; finding, however, it was his old comrade, Captain John Lawton, who had spoken, he rallied his astonished faculties, and proceeded by saying,—

“Your doctrine is just, and in general I subscribe to it. But, John, my dear fellow, is the bandage easy?”

“Quite.”

“I agree with you as a whole; but as matter is infinitely divisible, so no case exists without an exception. Lawton, do you feel easy?”

“Very.”

“It is not only cruel to the sufferer, but sometimes unjust to others, to take human life where a less punishment would answer the purpose. Now, Jack, if you were only—move your arm a little—if you were only—I hope you feel easier, my dear friend?”

“Much.”

“If, my dear John, you would teach your men to cut with more discretion, it would answer you the same purpose—and give me great pleasure.”

The doctor drew a heavy sigh, as he was enabled to get rid of what was nearest to the heart; and the dragoon coolly replaced his coat, saying with great deliberation as he retired,—

“I know no troop that cut more judiciously; they generally shave from the crown to the jaw.”

The disappointed operator collected his instruments, and with a heavy heart proceeded to pay a visit to the room of Colonel Wellmere.