With Frederick the Great: A Story of the Seven Years' War. Henty George Alfred. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Henty George Alfred
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sword thrust in the body.

      Under Fergus' direction the servant had cut off the doublet and, after pouring some more spirits down the wounded man's throat, he bade one of the other women fetch him some soft linen, and a sheet. When these arrived he made a pad of the linen, and bound it over the wounded man's shoulder with some strips torn from the sheet. Then he sent for some straight strips of wood, cut them to the right length, wrapped some linen round them and, straightening the arm, applied them to it and, with the assistance of the girl, bandaged it firmly. Then he placed a pad of linen over the wound in the body, and passed bandages round and round.

      "Well done!" he said to his assistant. "You are a stout girl, and a brave one."

      Then he turned to the others, who were crowded round their mistress.

      "Stand back," he said, "and throw open the window and let the air come to her. That will do.

      "The young lady and this girl will be enough, now. Do the rest of you run off and get some clothes on."

      "She has opened her eyes once, sir."

      "She will come round directly, young lady. Pour a spoonful or two from this glass between her lips. It is stronger than that you have in your hand. She has had a terrible shock, but as soon as she hears that your father is alive, it will do more for her than all our services."

      "Will he live, sir?"

      "That I cannot say for certain, but I have great hopes that he will do so. However, I will send a surgeon out, as soon as I get to the city."

      The lady was longer in her swoon than Fergus had expected, and the servants had returned before she opened her eyes.

      "Now," he said, "do four of you lend me your assistance. It would be well to carry this sofa with your master into the next room; and then we will take your mistress in there, too, so that she will be spared seeing these ruffians scattered about, when she comes to herself."

      The doors leading to the adjoining apartment were opened, candles lighted there, and the wounded man carried in on his sofa.

      "And now for your mistress. It will be easier to lift her out of the chair, and carry her in bodily."

      This he did, with the assistance of two of the servants.

      "Now," he said to the young girl, "do you stay by her, my brave maid. I think she will recover in a minute or two. Her eyelids moved as I brought her in. I will look round and see about things.

      "Were these the only two men in the house?" he asked the other women, as he joined them on the landing.

      "No, sir. There were six men. The other four have gone to bed, but the two outside always waited up till the count and countess retired."

      "Where are their rooms?" he asked, taking a candle.

      One of the women led him upstairs. As he expected, he found the four men lying dead. One had apparently leapt up as the door was opened, and the other three had been killed in their beds.

      "Where can I get help from?"

      "There are the men at the stables. It is at the back of the house, three or four hundred yards away."

      "Well, take one of the other women with you, and go and rouse them. Tell them to dress and come here, at once."

      He now went down to the gate, undid the fastening, and then led his horse up to the house. In a few minutes the stablemen arrived. He ordered them to carry the bodies of the six marauders out, and lay them in front of the house. When they had done so, they were to take those of the servants and place them in an outhouse. Then he went upstairs again.

      "The countess has recovered, sir," one of the women said.

      "Tell her that I will send one of the army surgeons down, at once. But first, bandage my arm. It is but a flesh wound, I know; but I am feeling faint, and am sure that it is keeping on bleeding.

      "Here, my girl," he said to the one who had before assisted, "I can trust to you not to faint."

      With her assistance he took off his coat, the arm of which was saturated with blood.

      "You had better cut off the sleeve of the shirt," he said.

      This was done, and the nature of the wound was seen. A ball had ploughed through the flesh three inches below the shoulder, inflicting a gaping but not serious wound.

      "It is lucky that it was not the inside of the arm," he said to the girl, as she bandaged it up; "for had it been, I should have bled to death in a very few minutes.

      "Has the count opened his eyes yet?"

      "No, sir. He is lying just as he was."

      "What is the gentleman's name?"

      "Count Eulenfurst."

      "You had better give me a draught of wine, before I start. I feel shaken, and it is possible that riding may set my wound bleeding again."

      Having drunk a goblet of wine, Fergus went down and mounted his horse. As he did so, he said to one of the men:

      "Take a lantern, and go down to the spot where the road hither turns off from the main road. A surgeon will be here in half an hour, or perhaps in twenty minutes. He will be on the lookout for you and your lantern."

      Events had passed quickly, and the church bell chimed a quarter to eleven as he rode through the streets of Dresden. In three minutes he drew up at the entrance to the royal quarters. As he dismounted, Karl came out.

      "Keep the horse here, Karl," he said. "It may be wanted in a minute or two again."

      "Are you hurt, sir?" the man asked as he dismounted, for he saw his face by the light of the torches on each side of the gateway.

      "It is only a flesh wound, and of no consequence; but I have lost a good deal of blood."

      He made his way up the staircase to the marshal's quarters. He was feeling dizzy and faint, now.

      "Is the marshal in his room?" he asked.

      "He is in, sir, but–"

      "I would speak to him immediately. 'Tis a most urgent matter."

      The servant went in, a moment later held the door open, and said:

      "Will you enter, sir?"

      Fergus entered, and made the usual formal salute to the marshal. Two or three other officers were in the room, but he did not heed who they were, nor hear the exclamations of surprise that broke out at his appearance.

      "I beg to report, sir, that the house of the Count Eulenfurst has been attacked by marauders, belonging to one of the Pomeranian regiments. The count is desperately wounded, and I pray that a surgeon may be sent instantly to his aid. The house stands back from the road, about half a mile from the north gate. A man with a lantern will be standing in the road to guide him to it. My horse is at the door below, in readiness to take him. I pray you to allow me to retire."

      He swayed and would have fallen, had not the marshal and one of the others present caught him, and laid him down on a couch.

      "He is wounded, marshal," the other officer said. "This sleeve is saturated with blood."

      The marshal raised his voice, and called an attendant:

      "Run to the quarters of staff surgeon Schmidt, and ask him to come here immediately, and to bring another of his staff with him, if there is one in."

      In two minutes the king's chief surgeon entered, followed by another of his staff.

      "First look to the wound of Cornet Drummond," the marshal said. "It is in the arm, and I trust that he has only fainted from loss of blood."

      The surgeons examined the wound.

      "It is in no way serious, marshal. As you say, he has fainted from loss of blood. He must have neglected it for some time. Had it been bandaged at once, it would only have had the consequence of disabling his arm for a fortnight or so."

      The assistant had already hurried away to get lint and bandages. Another voice now spoke.

      "Surgeon Schmidt, you will please at once mount Mr. Drummond's horse, which is