It was finally decided that Chrissy should remain, and that the grief-stricken husband should ride her pony as far as the Columbia farm, where he was to remain until the Chief should give him leave to return.
It was nearly dark when Mrs. Wright reached Burns's, where several young men were standing round the door. Touching their hats respectfully to her as she entered, they soon followed her into a low room, permeated with the sickening odor of whisky and stale tobacco, where a young man lay with blackened eyes, a gash over the left temple, and a broken arm.
"So you've been fighting again, Andrew?" she said, "I thought after your last scrape that you would leave Jamaica rum alone."
Andrew was fully convinced in his own mind that his injuries would ultimately prove fatal, and his feelings alternated between vengeance on the one who had proved too strong for him and an uneasy apprehension of dissolution.
"It was not my fault; and if ever I lay hands on that villain again I'll thrash him within an inch of his life," he hissed through clenched teeth, his face white with rage; "I'll smash every bone in his body. Give me time, Mrs. Wright, to say a paternoster before you begin."
"How can you pray, 'Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name,' and drink that which will cause His name to be profaned and blasphemed?" she said. "How can you pray, 'Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done,' and drink that which will be the greatest hindrance to the coming of His kingdom and the fulfilment of His will? How can you pray, 'Give us this day our daily bread,' and drink that which is depriving thousands of daily bread? How can you pray, 'Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors,' and take that which makes us unwilling to forgive our debtors? How can you pray, 'Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil,' and drink that which has proved temptation and evil to so many? I assure you, Andrew," she said, "that you cannot say a paternoster and drink strong drink."
Turning to the father of the young man, she said:
"It is a simple fracture, but it will have to be set, and it will need a strong man to do it. You can get a splint while I make the bandages. There now," she said, "take hold of the hand and pull it slowly and steadily—this way—see. Now, are you ready?"
"Ough!" groaned the young man. "Ough, but you're hurtin' me, you're hurtin' me."
"There, now, that was well done," she said, feeling the spot carefully. "Now give me the splint."