“Certainly they have. Off with you as fast as you can!”
The corporal saluted, wheeled his horse, and dashed off, followed by the rest of the party. De Banyan wiped away the cold sweat from his brow, and returned to his suffering companion. He helped him to dismount and seated him on a block while he secured the horse. By this time, a couple of negro women came out of the house. They were the early risers of the family, and at once manifested the most abundant sympathy for the sufferer. The doors of the house were thrown wide open to him; and Captain de Banyan, supporting Somers, followed the servants into the sitting-room, where the patient was laid upon the sofa in a fainting condition.
“Now call your master,” said De Banyan, with as much assurance as though he had been the lord of the manor.
“Yes, massa,” replied one of the women as she hastened to obey the order.
“How do you feel, my dear boy?” said De Banyan, bending over his charge.
But Somers was past answering. He had fainted from loss of blood and the agony of his wound. The resolute captain did not wait for Dr. Scoville in this emergency; but, taking a bottle of cologne from the mantel, he applied himself with skill and vigor to the restoration of his patient. While he was thus engaged, the doctor made his appearance. He was a man of fifty, of forbidding aspect and rough exterior.
“Who are you, sir?” demanded he in brusk tones, placing himself in front of the captain, and without bestowing more than a glance at the patient on the sofa.
“Captain Sheffield,” replied De Banyan as sharply as the question had been put.
“Are you, indeed? Then you have altered a great deal since I saw you yesterday,” added Dr. Scoville, with an expression of malignant triumph on his face.
This reply was a damper on any little scheme which the over-confident De Banyan had proposed to carry out; but the captain was a profound student in the mysteries of human nature, and at once correctly read the character of the gentleman who stood before him.