"I am as weak as a child," said Bessy, in a low tone; but then, instantly recovering herself, she added, in a gayer manner, "Well, I will undertake the task, and risk all sorts of ingratitude. You must not think me bold, Richard, if I come in and out at all times and seasons to see to my patient's progress--being my cousin too, I have a right. Your servant will stay with you, of course. Can't you have a bed, or a sofa, or something put up there for him, Mr. Stringer? I am going away just now to take some hartshorn, or some mint-julep, or some rye-whisky, or something--what would you recommend, gentlemen?--I have just found out that I have got some nerves, and am not quite so much accustomed to scenes of blood and slaughter as you are." It struck me that there was the slightest possible touch of bitterness in what she said; but I found afterwards that I was mistaken. Strong emotions, even of the tenderest kind, sometimes have recourse to hard words, and even to light jests, to hide themselves not only from the eyes of others, but also from the sight of those who feel them. Bessy, Mr. Byles, and Mr. Stringer quitted the room, leaving me with Zed and Mr. Wheatley. The latter, with great tact and good sense, chatted so calmly and cheerfully that the time seemed very short till Dr. Christy, the surgeon, quietly, and almost silently, entered the room. He did not wear creaking shoes, that besetting sin of medical men. His manner was all very calm and composed, without the slightest haste or bustle in his aspect, although I could judge from the perspiration on his forehead that he had ridden hard. After a few minutes' conversation on subjects barely relevant to my situation, he proceeded to examine my arm. "The ball is still in," he said; "your muscle is very firm, Sir Richard, or they had not put powder enough in the pistol. However, we shall easily extract it, for it lies perfectly straight." He put me to a good deal of pain, however, though not for more than a few seconds; and then dropped the bullet into a basin of water. I thought it was all over; but he must needs probe the wound again, and then, shaking his head, observed,-- "There is something more, I am sorry to say. We must not leave anything extraneous in the wound, for fear of bad consequences hereafter. A moment more, and it will be all over. Whatever it is, I know its exact position." He then had recourse to the forceps again, and, in an instant, brought up a small splinter of bone, not bigger than an ordinary iron tack. "That is unfortunate," he said; "the ball has just touched the bone, which may delay your recovery for some days, and will require you to keep quiet and be very cautious. Otherwise, the wound might heal almost with the first intention."