Graham's Magazine, Vol. XX, No. 6, June 1842Various
Science
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XX, No. 6, June 1842
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
The wound which I had received was at first thought to be mortal, but
after the extraction of the ball my case assumed a more favorable
aspect. The crisis of my fate was looked for with anxiety by my comrades
in arms. My return to consciousness found them, as I have described,
watching that event at my bedside.
Our voyage was soon completed, and we entered the port of —— amid the
salvos of the batteries and the merry peals of the various convent
bells. The governor came off to our fleet, almost before we had dropped
our anchors, and bestowed rewards on the spot on those of his troops who
had peculiarly distinguished themselves. He came at once to my cot, and
would have carried me home to the government-house, but Mr. Neville, the
uncle of the fair girl whom I had saved from the desperadoes, having
attended his excellency on board, insisted that I should accept the
hospitalities of his home.
“Well,” said his excellency, with a meaning smile, “I must give him up,
for, as you say, mine is but a bachelor establishment, and hired nurses,
however good, do not equal those who are actuated by gratitude. But I
must insist that my own physician shall attend him.”
I was still too weak to take any part in this controversy, and although
I made at first a feeble objection to trespassing on Mr. Neville’s
kindness, he only smiled in reply, and I found myself, in less than an
hour, borne to his residence, without having an opportunity to
expostulate.
What a relief it is, when suffering with illness, to be transported from
a close, dirty cabin to a large room and tidy accommodations! How
soothing to a sick man are those thousand little conveniencies and
delicacies which only the hand of woman can supply, and from which the
sufferer on shipboard is debarred! The well-aired bed linen; the clean
and tidy apartment; the flowers placed on the stand opposite the bed;
the green jalousies left half open to admit the cooling breeze; the
delicious rose-water sprinkled around the room, and giving it an
aromatic fragrance; and the orange, or tamarind, or other delicacy ever
ready within reach to cool the fevered mouth, and remind you of the
ceaseless care which thus anticipates your every want. All these, and
even more, attested the kindness of my host’s family. Yet everything was
done in so unobtrusive a manner that, for a long while, I was ignorant
to whom I was indebted for this care. I saw no one but the nurse, the
physician, and Mr. and Mrs. Neville. But I could not help fancying that
there were others who sometimes visited my sick chamber, although as yet
I had never been able to detect them, except by the fresh flowers which
they left every morning as evidences of their presence. More than once,
on suddenly awaking from sleep, I fancied I heard a light footstep
retreating behind my bed, and once I distinguished the tone of a low
sweet voice which sounded on my ear, tired as it was of the grating
accents of the nurse, like music from Paradise.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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