Finally the door opened, and in came Williams and Cuff, the former with shears and bands of linen, the latter with a basin of water. Williams, whom Peyton had not before seen, scrutinized him critically, and forthwith proceeded to expose, examine, wash, and bind up the wounded leg, while Cuff stood by and played the rôle of surgeon’s assistant. Peyton speedily perceived on the steward’s part a reliable acquaintance with the art of dressing cuts, and therefore submitted without a word to his operations. Williams was equally silent, breaking his reticence only now and then to utter some monosyllabic command to Cuff.
When the wound was dressed, Williams put the patient’s disturbed attire to rights, and adjusted his hair. Peyton, with a feeling of some relief, made to stretch the wounded leg, but a sharp twinge cut the movement short.
“You should make a good surgeon,” Peyton said at last, “you tie so damnably tight a bandage.”
“I’ve bound up many a wound, sir,” said Williams; “and some far worse than yours. ’Tis not a dangerous cut, yours, though ’twill be irritating while it lasts. You won’t walk for a day or two.”
“It’s remarkable your mistress has so much trouble taken with me, when she intends to deliver me to the British.”
Peyton had inferred the steward’s place in the house, from his appearance and manner.
“Why, sir,” said Williams, “we couldn’t have you bleeding over the floor and furniture. Besides, I suppose she wants to hand you over in good condition.”
“I see! No bedraggled remnant of a man, but a complete, clean, and comfortable candidate for Cunningham’s gallows!” Peyton here forgot his wound and attempted to sit upright, but quickly fell back with a grimace and a groan.
“Better lie still, sir,” counselled Williams, sagely. “If you need any one, you are to call Cuff. He will be in waiting in that hall, sir.” And the steward pointed towards the east hall. “There will be no use trying to get away. I doubt if you could walk half across the room without fainting. And if you could get out of the house, you’d find black Sam on guard, with his duck-gun,—and Sam doesn’t miss once in 120 a hundred times with that duck-gun. Bring those things, Cuff.” Williams indicated Peyton’s hat, remnant of sword, and scabbard, which had been placed on the armchair by the fireside.