CHAPTER III. — The Bag Baby.
Madame Charbonneau gave such entire satisfaction as Maîtresse d’Hôpital that I purchased her interest in the lease of the house, and employed her permanently as my aide-de-camp. In a short time we established quite a reputation, and applications for accommodation poured in from all quarters.
One bitter cold day towards the end of March a lady and gentleman arrived by the morning train from the United States. The lady was apparently about thirty-five years of age, while the gentleman might have been from five to ten years her senior, and, although plainly attired, they had the appearance of belonging to the better class of society. The gentleman informed me that they had just arrived from New York, and had put up at the St. Lawrence Hall; but that his wife had taken ill unexpectedly, and, hearing that she would be better cared for in my house than at the Hall, he wished, if possible, to secure rooms and professional attendance. The house being rather full at the time, Madame Charbonneau was obliged to give her the nurse’s room (which contained two beds) till some of the other rooms should become vacant; this her husband readily assented to, and arranged to call in the afternoon and bring the necessary funds, which I always made it a point to collect in advance. The lady seeming tired and exhausted, I recommended her to divest herself of her clothing and retire to bed, which she accordingly did, and soon fell into a deep sleep. In the afternoon the gentleman returned, and, having settled the bills, went upstairs to see his wife who was just then partaking of some light refreshment. He expressed himself well pleased with our arrangements, and said he would call regularly to see how his wife progressed.
That night as the nurse was about to retire, she was surprised to find, under the coverlet of her bed, an enormous rag baby, as large as a child of two years old, dressed completely, with shoes, bonnet and veil. Her astonishment can easily be imagined as she held it up to the light and carefully examined it; then, laughing heartily, she turned to Mrs. Roberts (my patient) and said:
“My! who could have put this baby in my bed?” On which that lady replied with evident embarrassment that the baby was a doll belonging to her niece, and that, imagining the bed to be unoccupied, she had, in unpacking her trunk, placed it there for the sake of convenience, and apologized for being so careless. The nurse made no reply, but, being of a jovial disposition, danced with it into the other rooms, exclaiming, much to the chagrin of the lady, that she had found a beautiful baby in her bed. The other patients wondered what it was, and whence it came, and appealed to me for information, but, as I knew nothing about it myself, their curiosity was not gratified in the least. On my questioning the lady she told me a story similar to that which she told the nurse, but her countenance contradicted her assertions, and the idea of any child carrying a doll of the dimensions of the rag baby was too absurd for credence. No more was said about it, however, and the matter passed almost completely from our memory.
For three or four days things went on as usual, Mrs. Roberts getting to all appearances better every day, and her husband’s visits being paid with due regularity; one day, however, he failed to appear, and Mrs. Roberts seemed very uneasy. After tea she asked for the evening paper, and hastily scanned its columns, when her eye fell on some item of interest, and she became deadly pale. The American war being then in progress I thought she might have learned of the death of a friend or relation, so I inquired if anything were amiss, and was astonished when she pointed out a paragraph containing an account of her husband’s arrest for enlisting British subjects for the American army, and smuggling them across the line, She now took me into her confidence, and explained that she was an accomplice of her husband, and that they had made a practice of enlisting men in Montreal. Her husband usually remained here, as it was dangerous for him to travel to and fro, but she was sent as an escort for each recruit, and the baby was used to avert suspicion, as no sentinel would think of scrutinizing a man closely who went across accompanied with his wife and child. The excess of travel had weakened her frame, and now this shock came to still further shake her system; the result was a premature confinement, and a long and weary illness.
Ere she recovered she got a letter from her husband, bearing the New York postmark. It seems he had been liberated on bail, (having influential friends) and had at once made the best of his way to the United States. His wife soon joined him, taking with her the redoubtable rag-baby, which had afforded us so much food for gossip and conjecture.