“It sounds prodigiously like the concussion on the atmosphere made by the explosion of firearms,” said the surgeon, sipping his tea with great indifference. “I should imagine it to be the troop of Captain Lawton returning, did I not know the captain never uses the pistol, and that he dreadfully abuses the saber.”
“Merciful providence!” exclaimed the agitated maiden, “he would not injure one with it, certainly.”
“Injure!” repeated the other quickly. “It is certain death, madam; the most random blows imaginable; all that I can say to him will have no effect.”
“But Captain Lawton is the officer we saw this morning, and is surely your friend,” said Frances, hastily, observing her aunt to be seriously alarmed.
“I find no fault with his want of friendship; the man is well enough if he would learn to cut scientifically. All trades, madam, ought to be allowed to live; but what is to become of a surgeon, if his patients are dead before he sees them!”
The doctor continued haranguing on the probability and improbability of its being the returning troop, until a loud knock at the door gave new alarm to the ladies. Instinctively laying his hand on a small saw, that had been his companion for the whole day, in the vain expectation of an amputation, the surgeon, coolly assuring the ladies that he would stand between them and danger, proceeded in person to answer the summons.
“Captain Lawton!” exclaimed the surgeon, as he beheld the trooper leaning on the arm of his subaltern, and with difficulty crossing the threshold.
“Ah! my dear bonesetter, is it you? You are here very fortunately to inspect my carcass; but do lay aside that rascally saw!”
A few words from Mason explained the nature and manner of his captain’s hurts, and Miss Peyton cheerfully accorded the required accommodations. While the room intended for the trooper was getting ready, and the doctor was giving certain portentous orders, the captain was invited to rest himself in the parlor. On the table was a dish of more substantial food than ordinarily adorned the afternoon’s repast, and it soon caught the attention of the dragoons. Miss Peyton, recollecting that they had probably made their only meal that day at her own table, kindly invited them to close it with another. The offer required no pressing, and in a few minutes the two were comfortably seated, and engaged in an employment that was only interrupted by an occasional wry face from the captain, who moved his body in evident pain. These interruptions, however, interfered but little with the principal business in hand; and the captain had got happily through with this important duty, before the surgeon returned to announce all things ready for his accommodation in the room above stairs.
“Eating!” cried the astonished physician. “Captain Lawton, do you wish to die?”