As these thoughts flitted through his mind, excluding for the moment those graver interests, involving a people’s doom, he heard the shouts of a crowd, and saw a man, pale and bloody, standing on a table under a tree, from a branch of which a rope was dangling. Vance comprehended the meaning of it all in an instant. He darted toward the spot, gliding swift, agile, and flexuous through the compacted crowd. Yes! The victim was the same man to whom he had given the gold-piece, some days before. Vance put a summary stop to Judge Lynch’s proceedings, breaking up the court precisely as Bernard had related. The wounded man was conveyed to the hospital. Here Vance saw his wound dressed, hired an extra attendant to nurse him, and then, in tones of warmest sympathy, asked the sufferer what more he could do for him.
The man opened his eyes. A swarthy, filthy, uncombed, unshaven wretch. He had been so blinded by blood that he had not recognized Vance. But now, seeing him, he started, and strove to raise himself on his elbow.
Vance and the surgeon prevented the movement. The patient stared, and said: “You’ve done it agin, have yer? What’s yer name?”
“This is Mr. Vance,” replied the surgeon.
“Vance! Vance!” said the patient, as if trying to force his memory to some particular point. Then he added: “Can’t do it! And yit I’ve seen him afore somewhar.”
“Well, my poor fellow, I must leave you. Good by.”
“Why, this hand is small and white as a woman’s!” said the patient, touching Vance’s fingers carefully as he might have touched some fragile flower. “Yer’ll come agin to see me,—woan’t yer?”
“Yes, I’ll not forget it.”—“Call to-morrow, will yer?”—“Yes, if I’m alive I’ll call.”—“Thahnk yer, strannger. Good by.”
Giving a few dollars to the surgeon for the patient’s benefit, Vance quitted the hospital. An hour afterwards, in his room at the St. Charles, he penned and sent this note:—
“To Perdita: I shall not be able to see you again to-day. Content yourself as well as you can in the company of Mozart and Beethoven, Bellini and Donizetti, Irving and Dickens, Tennyson and Longfellow. The company is not large, but you will find it select. Unless some very serious engagement should prevent, I will see you to-morrow.