I could see that Belt was grateful for the way I had put the matter. Presently they opened the door, both appearing there for the sake of company at that hour, I suppose. Belt tried to preserve an appearance in the presence of the ladies, but he was too sick. He trembled with his chill like a sapling in a high wind, and I said:
“Lieutenant Belt’s condition speaks for itself; nothing else could have induced us to intrude upon you at such an untimely hour.”
I fancy I said that well, and both Madame Van Auken and her daughter showed pity for Belt; yet the elder could not wholly repress a display of feeling against us.
“We can not turn any one ill, not even an enemy, away from our door,” she said, “but I fear the rebel armies have left us little for the uses of hospitality.”
She said this in the stiff and rather precise way that our fathers and mothers affected, but she motioned for us to come in, and we obeyed her. I confess I was rather glad to enter the dry room, for my clothes were flapping wet about me.
“Perhaps the lieutenant would like to lie down,” said Madame Van Auken, pointing to a large and comfortable sofa in the corner of the room that we had entered.
But Belt was too proud to do that, though it was needful to him. He sat down merely and continued to shiver. Mistress Kate came presently with a large draught of hot whisky and water which smelled most savorously. She insisted that Belt drink it, and he swallowed it all, leaving none for me. Madame Van Auken placed a lighted candle upon a little table, and then both the ladies withdrew.
Belt said he felt better, but he had a most wretched appearance. I insisted that he let me feel his pulse, and I found he was bordering upon a high fever, and most likely, if precautions were not taken, would soon be out of his senses. The wet clothes were the chief trouble, and I said they must come off. Belt demurred for a while, but he consented at last when I told him persistent refusal might mean his death.
I roused up the ladies again, explaining the cause of this renewed interruption, and secured from them their sympathy and a large bedquilt. I made Belt take off his uniform, and then I spread the quilt over him as he lay on the sofa, telling him to go to sleep. He said he had no such intention; but a second hot draught of whisky which Kate brought to the door gave him the inclination, if not the intention. But he fought against it, and his will was aided by the sudden revival of sounds which betokened that the skirmishing had begun again. Through the window I heard the faint patter of rifles, but the shots were too distant, or the night too dark to disclose the flash. This sudden spurt of warlike activity told me once again that the great crisis was approaching fast, and I hoped most earnestly that events at the Van Auken house would culminate first.
Belt was still struggling against weakness and sleep, and he complained fretfully when he heard the rifle shots, bemoaning his fate to be seized by a wretched, miserable chill at such a time.