Mr. Brown indulged a notion, whether correctly or not I am unable to
say, but one which I believe to be not uncommon, that by presenting
his side instead of his front to his adversary's fire, he exposed
fewer vital parts to danger; and if destiny intended him to be
wounded, he certainly, in the present instance, was benefited by the
above arrangement, for he received the bullet in perhaps the least
dangerous part of his body.
Mr. Brown was a stout, compact man, well developed and rounded in
the fuller parts of his body; he piqued himself somewhat on the fair
proportions of his nether man; he was also somewhat of a dandy; and
had come out this morning, as, I believe, was the custom on such
occasions, nearly full dressed; he had on a black dress coat, black
waistcoat, and black well fitting trousers; and as he turned his side
to the Counsellor, he displayed to advantage the whole of his comely
figure.
But, alas! its comeliness was destined for a time to be destroyed.
Mr. Webb's fire passed directly under the tails of his coat; the ball
just traversed along his trousers about a foot beneath the waistband,
cutting them and his drawers and shirt, as it were, with a knife, and
wounding the flesh in its course to the depth of perhaps the eighth
part of an inch. Directly Major Longsword perceived that his man was
hit, he vociferously called for Blake.
From the position which Mr. Brown assumed on receiving the fire, it
was the general opinion of all the party that he was not mortally
wounded. Blake was immediately on the spot, and lost no time in
supporting him.
"Where is it, Mr. Brown, where is it? Can you stand? Can you walk?
Allow me to support you to the bank. You can get a seat there; we
must sit down at once. My dear sir, the first thing is to get you to
a comfortable seat."
"Comfortable seat, and be d----d to you!" was the patient's uncivil
reply. "Go to hell, I tell, you!" as Blake continued to lift him.
"I'm well enough; I can walk to the carriage!"
"My dear sir," continued the doctor, "the ball must be in your side;
at any rate allow me to discover where it is."
"Ball be d----d, I tell you!" and he hobbled a little way off from
his tormentor; the portion of his trousers on the part affected
annoyed him sorely when he attempted to walk.
"Permit me to hope," said the Counsellor, coming up--"permit me
to hope, now that this affair seems to be over, that you are not
seriously hurt. Had you not better allow Doctor Blake to ascertain
whether the bullet still remains in you? had you not better sit
down?"
"Bother Doctor Blake, sir," said Mr. Brown, with his hands still
under his coat tails.
"Ah! I see now," said the Doctor, stooping down; "I see the wound,
I think. It's bleeding now--and I think I may guarantee that there's
no danger; allow me one minute, for the ball may be lodged," and he
proceeded to lift up the tails of the coat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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