“Ha! what a woman!” said the Colonel. “She is quite well now, Doctor—is she not?”
“Always is,” said the Doctor. “Absolutely perfect.”
“I don’t understand you, Doctor. The poor woman suffered a great deal in her daring defence of her patients.”
“Hah! we’re playing at cross purposes,” said the Doctor importantly. “You’re talking about Mrs Gee.”
“Of course. Weren’t you?”
“Pish! Poo! Bah! No. I meant my great help and patroness Dame Nature.”
“Oh!” ran round the table, in disappointed tones.
“Yes, gentlemen,” repeated the Doctor; “Dame Nature. She has set all my wounded right again, and put it to my credit. Why, if the poor fellows had been in stuffy barracks down in the hot plains they’d have died like flies. But up here, in this wonderfully pure mountain air, all I have to do is to see that the wounds are carefully bandaged, and cuts and bullet-holes grow up and together again in no time. As for the hill-men, their surgeon seems to be the next man, who operates with a bit of rag.”
“And kills or cures at once,” said Roberts, smiling.
“Exactly,” said the Doctor good-humouredly; “but really it’s wonderful how Nature does nearly all the work. Well, any news, Colonel?”