The Missing Bride | Page 9

one, and you will understand
that after what has occurred, I must not seem to hide myself like a
fugitive from justice! In short, I must go and answer for that which I
have done."
"I understand, but really, sir, you look very ill--you--"
But here the young officer held out his hand smilingly, took leave of
Cloudesley, and bowing low to Edith, rode off.
Cloudesley and Edith followed the gallant fellow with their eyes. He
had nearly reached the gate, the old green gate at the farthest end of the
semi-circular avenue, when the horse stopped, the rider reeled and fell
from his saddle. Cloudesley and Edith ran toward him--reached him.
Cloudesley disentangled his foot from the stirrup, and raised him in his
arms. Edith stood pale and breathless by.

"He has fainted! I knew he was suffering extreme pain. Edith! fly and
get some water! Or rather here! sit down and hold up his head while I
go."
Edith was quickly down by the side of her preserver, supporting his
head upon her breast. Cloudesley sped toward the house for water and
assistance. When he procured what he wanted and returned, he met the
troop of collegians on their return from the chase of the retreating
marauders. They reported that they had scattered the fugitives in every
direction and lost them in the labyrinths of the forest.
Several of them dismounted and gathered around the young ensign.
But Cloudesley was now upon the spot, and while he bathed the face of
the fainting man, explained to them how it was, and requested some
one to ride immediately to the village and procure a physician.
Thurston Willcoxen, the next in command under him, and his chosen
brother-in-arms, mounted his horse and galloped off.
In the meantime the wounded man was carried to the mansion house
and laid upon a cot in one of the parlors.
Presently Edith heard wheels roll up to the door and stop. She looked
up. It was the carriage of the surgeon, whom she saw alight and walk
up the steps. She went to meet him, composedly as she could, and
conducted him to the door of the sick-room, which he entered. Edith
remained in the hall, softly walking up and down, and sometimes
pausing to listen.
After a little, the door opened. It was only Solomon Weismann, who
asked for warm water, lint, and a quantity of old linen. These Edith
quickly supplied, and then remained alone in the hall, walking up and
down, and pausing to listen as before; once she heard a deep
shuddering groan, as of one in mortal extremity, and her own heart and
frame thrilled to the sound, and then all was still as before.
An hour, two hours, passed, and then the door opened again, and Edith
caught a glimpse of the surgeon, with his shirt sleeves pushed above his

elbows, and a pair of bloody hands. It was Solomon who opened the
door to ask for a basin of water, towels and soap, for the doctor to wash.
Edith furnished these also.
Half an hour passed, and the door opened a third time, and the doctor
himself came out, fresh and smiling. His countenance and his manner
were in every respect encouraging.
"Come into the drawing-room a moment, if you please, Miss Edith, I
want to speak with you."
Edith desired nothing more earnestly just at that moment.
"Well, doctor--your patient?" she inquired, anxiously.
"Will do very well! Will do very well! That is, if he be properly
attended to, and that is what I wished to speak to you about, Miss Edith.
I have seen you near sick-beds before this, my dear, and know that I
can better trust you than any one to whom I could at present apply. I
intend to install you as his nurse, my dear. When a life depends upon
your care, you will waive any scruples you might otherwise feel, Miss
Edith, I am sure! You will have your old maid, Jenny, to assist you, and
Solomon at hand, in case of an emergency. But I intend to delegate my
authority, and leave my directions with you."
"Yes, doctor, I will do my very best for your patient."
"I am sure of that. I am sure of that."
Edith watched by his cot through all the night, fanning him softly,
keeping his chest covered from the air, giving him his medicine at the
proper intervals, and putting drink to his lips when he needed it. But
never trusted her eyelids to close for a moment. Jenny shared her vigil
by nodding in an easy chair; and Solomon Weismann, a young medical
student, by sleeping soundly on the wooden settee in the hall. So passed
the night. After midnight, to Edith's great relief,