"I don't like that stare," cried the Captain; "he looks as wild out of the eyes as a squeezed frog; and that's no good sign. I remember me, Tom Loring stared the same way, when the doctor was fishing for the bullet among his ribs. He'll never live to paint me that picture! He'll die, doctor, won't he?"
"Can't venture to say, Captain," replied Merribody; "a very critical situation, sir, a very critical situation. But I never despair, sir; for while there's life there's hope. My preceptor, the late celebrated Dr. Bones, of Bucks county, used to tell his patients, 'he never despaired till he heard the joiners screwing up the coffin.' A very good rule, that, sir! We'll hope, sir, we'll hope. Pulse very full and vigorous—will take a little more blood, and remain a few hours to watch him."
"Stay all night," said the Captain; "won't let you go, sir."
"As to staying all night, Captain," said the physician, with an air, "I can't say. Must look to my patients in the village——but will stay to tea with great pleasure. Jingleum, hold the basin!"
The practitioner removed the bandage from the vein he had before opened, and (the Captain, in the meanwhile, hobbling out to inquire into the condition of Catherine,) had soon the pleasure of seeing his patient recover his wits so far as to be able to answer questions, though he displayed a much greater inclination to ask them.
His first demand was, "What's the matter? what ails my head, and my arm? and who are you all here about me?—Oh! ay!" he continued, "I remember—that confounded brook! I vow to Heaven, I thought I saw a ghost, though 'twas broad daylight! Heavens! how my shoulder aches, and my arm, how it twinges! Are you a doctor? Where's Elsie?"
"Well, now, I warrant me, doctor," whispered Aunt Rachel, "he begins to wander."
"My dear sir," said the physician, "I must beg you to hold your tongue. Take this cooling draught, and go to sleep; and, for your comfort, know that you are now in much better quarters than you could have had at old witch Elsie's. You are now in Captain Loring's house."
"In Captain Loring's! What, Avondale? Gilbert's Folly," cried the painter, starting up.
"Be quiet, sir," cried Merribody. "Lie down, and keep yourself quiet; or I won't insure your life two hours."