hope," says the lieutenant, "there are no such symptoms here."-
"Symptoms," answered the surgeon, "are not always regular nor
constant. I have known very unfavourable symptoms in the morning
change to favourable ones at noon, and return to unfavourable again at
night. Of wounds, indeed, it is rightly and truly said, Nemo repente
fuit turpissimus.* I was once, I remember, called to a patient who had
received a violent contusion in his tibia, by which the exterior cutis
was lacerated, so that there was a profuse sanguinary discharge; and
the interior membranes were so divellicated, that the os or bone
very plainly appeared through the aperture of the vulnus or wound.
Some febrile symptoms intervening at the same time (for the pulse
was exuberant and indicated much phlebotomy), I apprehended an
immediate mortification. To prevent which, I presently made a large
orifice in the vein of the left arm, whence I drew twenty ounces of
blood; which I expected to have found extremely sizy and glutinous, or
indeed coagulated, as it is in pleuretic complaints; but, to my
surprize, it appeared rosy and florid, and its consistency differed
little from the blood of those in perfect health. I then applied a
fomentation to the part, which highly answered the intention; and
after three or four times dressing, the wound began to discharge a
thick pus or matter, by which means the cohesion-- But perhaps I do
not make myself perfectly well understood?"- "No, really," answered
the lieutenant, "I cannot say I understand a syllable."- "Well, sir,"
said the surgeon, "then I shall not tire your patience; in short,
within six weeks my patient was able to walk upon his legs as
perfectly as he could have done before he received the contusion."-
"I wish sir," said the lieutenant, "you would be so kind only to
inform me, whether the wound this young gentleman hath had the
misfortune to receive, is likely to prove mortal."- "Sir," answered
the surgeon, "to say whether a wound will prove mortal or not at first
dressing, would be very weak and foolish presumption: we are all
mortal, and symptoms often occur in a cure which the greatest of our
profession could never foresee."- "But do you think him in danger?"
says the other.- "In danger! ay, surely," cries the doctor: "who is
there among us, who, in the most perfect health, can be said not to be
in danger? Can a man, therefore, with so bad a wound as this be said
to be out of danger? All I can say at present is, that it is well I
was called as I was, and perhaps it would have been better if I had
been called sooner. I will see him again early in the morning; and
in the meantime let him be kept extremely quiet, and drink liberally
of water-gruel."- "Won't you allow him sack-whey?" said the
landlady.- "Ay, ay, sack-whey," cries the doctor, "if you will,
provided it be very small."- "And a little chicken broth too?" added
she.- "Yes, yes, chicken broth," said the doctor, "is very
good."- "Mayn't I make him some jellies too?" said the landlady.- "Ay,
ay," answered the doctor, "jellies are very good for wounds, for
they promote cohesion." And indeed it was lucky she had not named soup
or high sauces, for the doctor would have complied, rather than have
lost the custom of the house.
*No man ever became extremely wicked all at once.
The doctor was no sooner gone, than the landlady began to trumpet
forth his fame to the lieutenant, who had not, from their short
acquaintance, conceived quite so favourable an opinion of his physical
abilities as the good woman, and all the neighbourhood, entertained
(and perhaps very rightly); for though I am afraid the doctor was a
little of a coxcomb, he might be nevertheless very much of a surgeon.
The lieutenant having collected from the learned discourse of the
surgeon that Mr. Jones was in great danger, gave orders for keeping
Mr. Northerton under a very strict guard, designing in the morning
to attend him to a justice of peace, and to commit the conducting
the troops to Gloucester to the French lieutenant, who, though he
could neither read, write, nor speak any language, was, however, a
good officer.
In the evening, our commander sent a message to Mr. Jones, that if a
visit would not be troublesome, he would wait on him. This civility
was very kindly and thankfully received by Jones, and the lieutenant
accordingly went up to his room, where he found the wounded man much
better than he expected; nay, Jones assured his friend, that if he had
not received express orders to the contrary from the surgeon, he
should have got up long ago; for he appeared to himself to be as
well as ever, and felt no other inconvenience from his wound but an
extreme soreness on that side of his head.
"I should be very glad," quoth the lieutenant, "if you was as well
as you fancy yourself, for then you could be able to do yourself
justice immediately; for when a matter can't be made up, as in case of
a blow, the sooner you take him out the better; but I am afraid you
think yourself better than you are, and he would have too much
advantage over you."
"I'll try, however," answered Jones, "if you please, and will be
so kind to lend me a sword, for I have none here of my own."
"My sword is heartily at your service, my dear boy," cries the
lieutenant, kissing him: "you are a brave lad, and I love your spirit;
but I fear your strength; for such a blow, and so much loss of
blood, must have very much weakened you; and though you feel no want
of strength in your bed, yet you most probably would after a thrust or
two. I can't consent to your taking him out to-night; but I hope you
will be able to come up with us before we get many days' march
advance; and I give you my honour you shall have satisfaction, or
the man who hath injured you shan't stay in our regiment."
"I wish," said Jones, "it was possible to decide this matter
to-night: now you have mentioned it to me, I shall not be able to
rest."
"Oh, never think of it," returned the other: "a few days will make
no difference. The wounds of honour are not like those in your body:
they suffer nothing by the delay of cure. It will be altogether as
well for you to receive satisfaction a week hence as now."
"But suppose," says Jones, "I should grow worse, and die of the
consequences of my present wound?"
"Then your honour," answered the lieutenant, "will require no
reparation at all. I myself will do justice to your character, and
testify to the world your intention to have acted properly, if you had
recovered."
"Still," replied Jones, "I am concerned at the delay. I am almost
afraid to mention it to you who are a soldier; but though I have
been a very wild young fellow, still in my most serious moments, and
at the bottom, I am really a Christian."
"So am I too, I assure you," said the officer; "and so zealous a
one, that I was pleased with you at dinner for taking up the cause
of your religion; and I am a little offended with you now, young
gentleman, that you should express a fear of declaring your faith
before any one."
"But how terrible must it be," cries Jones, "to any one who is
really a Christian, to cherish malice in his breast, in opposition
to the command of Him who hath expressly forbid it? How can I bear
to do this on a sick-bed? Or how shall I make up my account, with such
an article as this in my bosom against me?"
"Why, I believe there is such a command," cries the lieutenant; "but
a man of honour can't keep it. And you must be a man of honour, if you
will be in the army. I remember I once put the case to our chaplain
over a bowl of punch, and he confessed there was much difficulty in
it; but he said, he hoped there might be a latitude granted to
soldiers in this one instance; and to be sure it is our duty to hope
so; for who would bear to live without his honour? No, no, my dear
boy, be a good Christian as long as you live; but be a man of honour
too, and never put up an affront; not all the books, nor all the
parsons in the world, shall ever persuade me to that. I love my
religion very well, but I love my honour more. There must be some
mistake in the wording the text, or in the translation, or in the
understanding it, or somewhere or other. But however that be, a man
must run the risque, for he must preserve his honour. So compose
yourself to-night, and I promise you you have an opportunity of
doing yourself justice." Here he gave Jones a hearty buss, shook him
by the hand, and took his leave.
But though the lieutenant's reasoning was very satisfactory to
himself, it was not entirely so to his friend. Jones therefore, having
revolved this matter much in his thoughts, at last came to a
resolution, which the reader will find in the next chapter.
Chapter 14
A most dreadful chapter indeed; and which few readers ought to
venture upon in an evening, especially when alone
Jones swallowed a large mess of chicken, or rather cock, broth, with
a very good appetite, as indeed he would have done the cock it was
made of, with a pound of bacon into the bargain; and now, finding in
himself no deficiency of either health or spirit, he resolved to get
up and seek his enemy.
But first he sent for the serjeant, who was his first acquaintance
among these military gentlemen. Unluckily that worthy officer
having, in a literal sense, taken his fill of liquor, had been some
time retired to his bolster, where he was snoring so loud that it
was not easy to convey a noise in at his ears capable of drowning that
which issued from his nostrils.
However, as Jones persisted in his desire of seeing him, a
vociferous drawer at length found means to disturb his slumbers, and
to acquaint him with the message. Of which the serjeant was no
sooner made sensible, than he arose from his bed, and having his
clothes already on, immediately attended. Jones did not think fit to
acquaint the serjeant with his design; though he might have done it
with great safety, for the halberdier was himself a man of honour, and
had killed his man. He would therefore have faithfully kept this
secret, or indeed any other which no reward was published for
discovering. But as Jones knew not those virtues in so short an
acquaintance, his caution was perhaps prudent and commendable enough.
He began therefore by acquainting the serjeant, that as he was now
entered into the army, he was ashamed of being without what was
perhaps the most necessary implement of a soldier; namely, a sword;
adding, that he should be infinitely obliged to him, if he could
procure one. "For which," says he, "I will give you any reasonable
price; nor do I insist upon its being silver-hilted; only a good
blade, and such as may become a soldier's thigh."
The serjeant, who well knew what had happened, and had heard that
Jones was in a very dangerous condition, immediately concluded, from
such a message, at such a time of night, and from a man in such a
situation, that he was light-headed. Now as he had his wit (to use
that word in its common signification) always ready, he bethought
himself of making his advantage of this humour in the sick man. "Sir,"
says he, "I believe I can fit you. I have a most excellent piece of
stuff by me. It is not indeed silver-hilted, which, as you say, doth
not become a soldier; but the handle is decent enough, and the blade
one of the best in Europe. It is a blade that- a blade that- in short
I will fetch it you this instant, and you shall see it and handle
it. I am glad to see your honour so well with all my heart."
Being instantly returned with the sword, he delivered it to Jones,
who took it and drew it; and then told the serjeant it would do very
well, and bid him name his price.
The serjeant now began to harangue in praise of his goods. He said
(nay he swore very heartily), "that the blade was taken from a
French officer, of very high rank, at the battle of Dettingen. I
took it myself," says he, "from his side, after I had knocked him o'
the head. The hilt was a golden one. That I sold to one of our fine
gentlemen; for there are some of them, an't please your honour, who
value the hilt of a sword more than the blade."
Here the other stopped him, and begged him to name a price. The
serjeant, who thought Jones absolutely out of his senses, and very
near his end, was afraid lest he should injure his family by asking
too little. However, after a moment's hesitation, he contented himself
with naming twenty guineas, and swore he would not sell it for less to
his own brother.
"Twenty guineas!" says Jones, in the utmost surprize: "sure you
think I am mad, or that I never saw a sword in my life. Twenty
guineas, indeed! I did not imagine you would endeavour to impose
upon me. Here, take the sword- No, now I think on't, I will keep it
myself, and show it your officer in the morning, acquainting him, at
the same time, what a price you asked me for it."
The serjeant, as we have said, had always his wit (in sensu
praedicto*) about him, and now plainly saw that Jones was not in the
condition he had apprehended him to be; he now, therefore,
counterfeited as great surprize as the other had shown, and said, "I
am certain, sir, I have not asked you so much out of the way. Besides,
you are to consider, it is the only sword I have, and I must run the
risque of my officer's displeasure, by going without one myself. And
truly, putting all this together, I don't think twenty shillings was
so much out of the way."
*In the aforementioned sense.
