The Desultory Man: Collection of Ancient and Modern British Novels and Romances. Vol. CXLVII.James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
The Desultory Man: Collection of Ancient and Modern British Novels and Romances. Vol. CXLVII.
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Fiction
trust in him, to give me every aid in his power.
I accepted his proposal with pleasure; the meadows near the town were
appointed for the meeting, and the hour named five o'clock the next
morning. I will not dwell upon my feelings during that night, nor even
upon the rencontre of the next morning, as the consequences were more
important to me than the event itself. To say the truth, I felt less
upon the subject than I ought to have done, and could scarcely get my
mind to grasp the belief that I might be killed. I knew that such
might be the case, but yet it did not come home to me; and though I
sat down calmly to write to Emily in case of the worst, and to make my
will in her favour, yet I did it but with little care, making sure
that I should have to tear it next day. I was woke out of a sound
sleep by my second, whose gentlemanly kindness and attention towards a
foreigner, under such circumstances, well deserve my gratitude, and
proceeded with him through a cold, damp, misty morning to the field.
Leaving every thing of course to be settled by those around us, my
adversary and myself soon brought our own part of the business to an
end, I remaining severely wounded in my right arm, and he being led
from the field with his hand so completely disabled, that I believe he
has never yet recovered the use thereof.
We had not taken the precaution to take a surgeon with us from the
town, and consequently, notwithstanding all our own efforts and those
of our seconds also, we were both faint from the loss of blood by the
time we reached the inn. To do my antagonist but justice, however, let
me say, ere I go further, that ere we quitted the field, he grasped my
left hand with his (for the right of each was disabled), and taking
all the blame upon himself, expressed bitter sorrow for what had
occurred. On arriving at the town, too, there was but one surgeon to
be found: La Grange insisted upon his attending to me first, and my
wounded arm was accordingly subjected to all the torture of surgical
investigation. The man of healing, however, seemed really to
understand his business; and according to his direction I went to bed,
where I soon fell asleep. It was but, however, to wake with great
fever, and when I proposed to go on to Rennes on the following day,
the surgeon assured me that the consequences of my stirring from my
bed for the next week might be the loss of my arm, the bone having
been injured though not broken.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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