Hatchie, the Guardian Slave; or, The Heiress of Bellevue: A Tale of the Mississippi and the South-westOptic, Oliver
General
Hatchie, the Guardian Slave; or, The Heiress of Bellevue: A Tale of the Mississippi and the South-west
Optic, Oliver
African Americans -- Fiction; Enslaved persons -- United States -- Fiction
After a thorough examination of the wound, the doctor announced the
gratifying intelligence that the woman was not dangerously wounded. The
severe operation of extracting the ball was performed, and the patient
left to the quiet her situation demanded.
On the passage from Cottage Island Hatchie had related the particulars
of the affray, so that on his arrival Dr. Vaudelier was in possession of
all the facts.
"You have had a severe fight here, madam," said he to Emily, who had
followed him out to inquire more particularly into the situation of her
hostess.
"We have, indeed; but I trust no lives will be lost," replied Emily.
"No; the woman will do very well. The wound is a severe one, but not
dangerous. Her strong constitution will resist all fatal consequences."
"I trust it may, for this has been a day of disaster, without the loss
of more life."
"You were a passenger in the Chalmetta?"
"I was."
"Then you have had a narrow escape."
"But a more narrow one since the explosion. Thank Heaven, I have been
preserved from both calamities!"
"Had you no friends on board?"
"I had--one friend;" and she hesitated. "I fear he has perished."
"Hope for the best!" replied the doctor, kindly.
The blush, and then the change to the paleness of death, as Emily
thought of Henry, first as the lover, and then as a mangled corpse had
not escaped the notice of Dr. Vaudelier. He read in her varying color
the relation they had sustained to each other.
"I have no alternative but hope," said Emily; "but it seems like hoping
against the certainty of evil."
"I saved the life of a gentleman this morning who must shortly have
perished without aid. He, too, had lost a dear friend."
"Indeed!" said Emily, with interest.
"Yes; but he was much injured, and will require the most diligent care."
"I trust your merciful endeavors will be crowned with success. Do you
know the gentleman?"
"I do not. He has not yet been able to converse much. He was dressed in
the uniform of an officer."
"An officer! Perhaps it is he!" exclaimed Emily.
Dr. Vaudelier was much interested in the adventure, and the pale,
anxious features of Emily excited his sympathy for her.
"As I dressed his wounds," said he, "I noticed the initials upon his
linen. Perhaps these may afford some clue."
"What were they?" exclaimed Emily, scarcely able to articulate, in the
intensity of her feelings.
"H.C."
"It is he! It is he! And you say he is wounded?"
"I am sorry to say he is."
"Can I go to him?" said Emily, grasping the doctor's arm.
"I fear your presence will excite him. Are you a relative?"
"No, not a relative," replied Emily, blushing; "but I know he would like
to see me."
"I do not doubt it," said the doctor, with a smile,--a luxury in which
he rarely indulged. "I am afraid your presence will agitate him."
"Let me watch over him while he sleeps. He need not know I am near."
"Rather difficult to manage, but you shall see him. Will you return with
me?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account