The Little Red Foot
CHAPTER XX
IN SHADOW-LAND
When I became conscious, I was lying under blankets upon a trundle-bed,within the four walls of a very small room.
I wore a night-shift which was not mine, being finer and oddly ruffled;and under it my naked body was as stiff as a pike pole, and bound uplike a mummy. My right thigh, too, was stiffly swathed and trussed, andI thought I should stifle from the heat of the blankets.
My mind was clear; I was aware of no sharp pain, no fever; but felt veryweak, and could have slept again, only that perspiration drenched me andmade me restless even as I dozed.
Sometime afterward--the same day, I think--I awoke in some pain, andrealized that I was lying on my right side and that the wound in mythigh was being dressed.
The place smelled rank, like a pharmacy, and slightly sickened me.
There were several people in the little room. I saw Nick kneeling besidethe bed, holding a pewter basin full of steaming water, and aContinental officer with his wrist-bands tucked up, choosing forcepsfrom a battered leather case.
I could not move my body; my head seemed too heavy to lift; but I wasaware of a woman standing close to where my head rested. I could see hertwo feet in their buckled shoes, and her petticoat of cotton stuffprinted in flowers.
When the surgeon had done a-packing my wound with lint, pain had left meweak and indifferent, and I lay heavily, with lids closed.
Also, I had seen and heard enough to satisfy what languid curiosity Imight have possessed. For I was in the gun-room at Summer House,whither, it appeared, they had taken me, despite my command to thecontrary.
But now I was too weary to resent it; too listless to worry; tooincurious to wonder who it might be that was at any pains to care for mybroken body at Summer House Point.
Nick came, later, and I opened my eyes, but made no effort to speak. Heseemed pleased, however, and gave me a filthy and bitter draught, whichI swallowed, but which so madded me that I swore at him.
Whereupon he smiled and wiped my lips and tucked in the accursedblankets that had been stifling me and which now scraped my unshavenchin.
"Damnation!" I whispered, "you smother me, drown me in sweat, and feedme gall and wormwood!"
And I closed my eyes to sleep; but found my mind not so inclined, andlay half dozing, conscious of the sunlight on the floor.
So I was awake when he arrived again with a pot o' broth.
"Can you not leave me in peace!" said I, so savagely that he laughedoutright and bent over, stirring the broth and grinning down at me.
Spoonful by spoonful I swallowed the broth. There was wine in it. Thismade me drowsy.
To keep account of time, whether it were still this day or the next, orhow the hours were passing, had been a matter of indifference to me. Orhow the world wagged outside the golden dusk of this small room hadinterested me not at all.
My Continental surgeon, whom they called Dr. Thatcher, came twice a dayand went smartly about his business.
Nick dosed me and fed me. I had asked no questions; but my mind hadbecome sullen and busy; and now I was groping backward and searchingmemory to find the time and place when I had lost touch with the worldand with the business which had brought me into these parts.
All was clearly linked up to the time that Balty shot me. Afterward,only fragments of the chain of events remained in my memory. I heardagain the thud of Balty's body on the puncheon floor, when Luysnes cuthim down from the rafters of Howell's house. I remember that I saw mentake ditch-spades to bury the dead. I remember that my body seemed allafire and that I became enraged and forbade them to take me to SummerHouse.
Further--and of the blank spaces between--I had no recollection savethat the whole world seemed burning up in darkness and that my body wasbeing consumed like a fagot in some hellish conflagration, where theflames were black and gave no light.
This day Dr. Thatcher and Nick washed me and closed my wounds.
There had been, it appeared, some drains left in them. The stiff harnesson my ribs they left untouched. I breathed, now, without any pain, butitched most damnably.
My closed wounds itched. I desired broth no longer and demanded meat.But got none and swore at Nick.
A barber from the Continental camp arrived to trim me. He took a beardfrom me that amazed me, and enough hair to awake the envy of aschool-girl--for I refused to wear a queue, and bade him trim my pol ala Coureur-du-Bois.
Now this barber, who was a private soldier, seemed willing to gossip;and of him I asked my first questions concerning the outside world andtrain of events.
But I soon perceived that all he knew was the veriest camp gossip, andthat his budget of rumours and reports was of no value whatever. For hesaid that our armies were everywhere victorious; that the British armieswere on the run; and that the war would be over in another month.Everybody, quoth he, would become rich and happy, with GeneralWashington for our King, and every general a duke or marquis, and everysoldier a landed proprietor, with nothing to do save sit on his porch,smoke his pipe, and watch his slaves plow his broad acres.
When this sorry ass took his leave, I had long since ceased to listen tohim.
I felt very well, except for the accursed itching where my flesh wasmending, and rib-bones knitting.
Dr. Thatcher came in. He was booted, spurred, wore pistols and sword,and a military foot-mantle.
When he caught my eyes he smiled slightly and asked me how I did. And Iexpressed my gratitude as suitably as I knew how, saying that I was welland desired to rise and be about my business.
"In two weeks," he said, which took me aback.
"Do you know how long you have been here?" he asked, amused.
"Some three or four days, I suppose.
"A month today, Mr. Drogue."
This stunned me. He seated himself on the camp-stool beside mytrundle-bed.
"What preys upon your mind, Mr. Drogue?" he asked pleasantly.
"Sir?"
"I ask you what it is that troubles you."
I felt a slow heat in my cheeks:
"I have nothing on my mind, sir, save desire to return to duty."
He said in his kindly way: "You would mend more quickly, sir, if yourmind were tranquil."
I felt my face flush to my hair:
"Why do you suppose that my mind is uneasy, Doctor?"
"You have asked no questions. A sick man, when recovering, asks many.You seem to remain incurious, indifferent. Yet, you are in the house ofold friends."
He looked at me out of his kind, grave eyes: "Also," he said, "you hadmany days of fever."
My face burned: I feared to guess what he meant, but now I must ask.
"Did I babble?"
"A feverish patient often becomes loquacious."
"Of--of whom did I--rave?" I could scarce force myself to the question.Then, as he also seemed embarrassed, I added: "You need not name her,Doctor. But I beg you to tell me who besides yourself overheard me."
"Only your soldier, Nicholas Stoner, and a Saguenay Indian, who squatsoutside your door day and night."
"Nobody else?"
"I think not."
"Has Lady Johnson heard me? Or Mistress Swift? Or--Mistress Grant?" Istammered.
"Why, no," said he. "These ladies were most tender and attentive whenyour soldiers brought you hither; but two days afterward, while youstill lay unconscious,--and your right lung filling solid,--there came aflag from General Schuyler, and an escort of Albany Horse for theladies. And they departed as prisoners the following morning, with theirflag, to be delivered and set at liberty inside the British lines."
"They are gone?"
"Yes, sir. Lady Johnson, while happy in her prospective freedom, andhopeful of meeting her husband in New York City, seemed very greatlydistressed to leave you here in such a plight. And Mistress Swiftoffered to remain and care for you, but our military authorities wouldnot allow it."
I said nothing.
He added, with a faint smile: "Our authorities, I tak
e it, wereimpatient to be rid of responsibility for these fair prisoners, Mr.Drogue. I know that Schuyler is vastly relieved."
"Has Stephen Watts been taken?" I asked abruptly. "Or Hare, or Butler?"
"Not that I have heard of."
So they had got clean away, that spying crew!--Watts and Hare and WalterButler! Well, that was better. God knows I had a million times rathermeet Steve Watts in battle than take him skulking here inside our linesa-spying on our camp, exchanging information with his unhappy sisterand with Claudia, or slinking about the shrubbery by night to press hissweetheart's waist and lips----
I turned my hot face on the pillow and lay a-thinking. The doctor laidback my blanket, looked at my hurts, then covered me.
"You do well," he said. "In two weeks you shall be out o' bed. Bonesmust knit and wounds scar before you carry pack again. And before yourlung is strong you shall need six months rest ere you take the field."
Aghast at such news, I asked him the true nature of my hurts, andlearned that Balty's bullet had broken three ribs into my right lung,then, glancing, had made a hole clean through my thigh, but notsplintering the bone.
"That Oneida girl of Thomas Spencer's saved you," said he, "for shepicked out the burnt wadding and bits of cloth, cleaned and checked thehemorrhage, and purged you. And there was no gangrene.
"She did all that anybody could have done; but the cold had alreadyseized your lung before she arrived, and it was that which involved youso desperately."
After a silence: "Good God, doctor! _Six months_!"
"Six months before you take the field, sir."
"A half year of idleness? Why, that can not be, sir----"
"It is better than eternity in a coffin, sir," said he quietly.
Then he came and took my hand, saying that orders had come directing himto join our Northern Army at Crown Point, and that he was to set offwithin the hour.
"A little nursing and continued rest are all you now require," said he;"and so I leave you without anxiety, Mr. Drogue."
I strove to express my deep gratitude for his service to me; he pressedmy hand, smilingly:
"If you would hasten convalescence," said he, "seek to recover thatserenity of mind which is a surer medicine than any in my phials."
At the door he turned and looked back to me:
"I think," said he in an embarrassed voice, "that you have really notrue reason for unhappiness, Mr. Drogue. If you have, then my experienceof men and women has taught me nothing."
With that he went; and I heard his sword and spurs through the hallway,and the outer door close.
What had he meant?
For a long while I pondered this. Then into my mind came another andinevitable question: _What_ had I said in my delirium?
I was hungry when Nick came.
"Well," says he, grinning at me, "our Continental saw-bones permits thisfat wild pigeon. And now I hope I shall have no more cursing to endure."
Tears came into my eyes and I held out my hand. It was blanched white,and bony, and lay oddly in his great, brown paw.
"Lord," says he, "what a fright you have given us, John, what withcoughing all day and night like a sick bullock----"
"I am mending, Nick."
"So says Major Squills. Here, lad, eat thy pigeon. Does it smack? Andhere is a little Spanish wine in this glass to nourish you. I had threebottles of the Continentals ere they marched----"
"Marched! Have they departed?" I demanded in astonishment.
"Horse, foot, and baggage," said he cheerily. "When I say 'horse,' Imean young Jack-boots, for he departed first with the flag that took myLady Johnson to New York."
"So everybody has gone," said I, blankly.
"Why, yes, John. The flag came from Schuyler and off went the ladies,bag, baggage, and servants.
"Then come Colonels Van Schaick and Dayton from Johnstown to inspect ourworks at this place and at Fish House. And two days later orders come toabandon Fish House and Summer House Point.... You do not rememberhearing their drums?"
"No."
"You were very bad that day," he said soberly. "But when their musicplayed you opened your eyes and nothing would do but you must rise anddress. Lord, how wild you talked, and I was heartily glad when theirdrumming died away on the Johnstown road."
"You mean to tell me that there is no longer any garrison on theSacandaga?" I asked, amazed.
"None. And but a meagre one at Johnstown. It seems we need troopseverywhere and have none to send anywhere. They've even taken your scoutand your Oneidas."
"What!" I exclaimed.
"They left a week ago, John, to work on the new fort which is beingfashioned out of old Fort Stanwix. So Dayton sends your scout thither toplay with pick and mattock, and your Oneidas to prowl along Wood Creekand guard the batteaux."
"You tell me that the Sacandaga is left destitute of garrison orscouts!" I asked angrily. "And Tryon crawling alive with Tories!--andthe Cadys and Helmers and Bowmans and Reeds and Butlers and Hares andStephen Watts stirring the disloyal to violence in every settlementbetwixt Schenectady and Ballston!"
"I tell you we are too few for all our need, John,--too few to watch allplaces threatened. Schuyler has but one regiment of Continentals now.Gates commands at Crown Point and draws to him all available men. HisExcellency is pressed for men in the South, too. Albany is almostdefenceless, Schenectady practically unguarded, and only a handful ofour people guard Johnstown."
"Where are the militia?" I demanded.
"Farming--save when the district call sends a regiment on guard or towork on the forts. But Herkimer has them in hand against a crisis, and Ihave no doubt that those Palatines will turn out to a man if Sir Johncomes hither with his murderous hordes."
I sat in silence, picking the bones of my pigeon. Nick said:
"Colonel Dayton came in here and looked at you. And when he left he saidto me that you had proven a valuable scout; and that, if you survived,he desired you to remain here at the Summer House with me and with yourSaguenay."
"For what purpose?" I demanded, sullenly.
"On observation."
"A scout of three! To cover the Sacandaga! Do they think we have wings?Or are a company of tree-cats with nine lives apiece?"
"Well," said Nick, scratching his ear in perplexity, "I know not whatour colonels and our generals are thinking; but the soldiers are gone,and our doctor has now departed, so if Dayton leaves us four peoplealone here in the Summer House it must be because there is nothing forthe present to apprehend, either from Sir John or from any Indian orTory marauders."
"_Four_ people?" I repeated. "I thought you said we were but threehere."
"Why," said he, "I mean that we are three men--three rifles!"
"Is there a servant woman, also?"
He looked at me oddly.
"The Caughnawaga girl came back."
"What!"
"The Scottish girl, Penelope."
"Came back! When?"
"Oh, that was long ago--after the flag left.... It seems she had meantto travel only to Mayfield with them.... She had not said so to anybody.But in the dark o' dawn she rides in on your mare, Kaya, havingtravelled all night long."
"'Why,' says I, 'what do you here on John Drogue's horse in the dark o'dawn?'
"'If there's danger,' says she calmly, 'this sick man should have ahorse to carry him to Mayfield fort.'
"Which was true enough; and I said so, and stabled your mare where LadyJohnson's horses had left a warm and empty manger."
"Well," said I harshly, as he remained silent.
"Lord, Jack, that is all I know. She has cooked for you since, and haskept this house in order, washed dishes, fed the chickens and ducks andpig, groomed your horse, hoed the garden, sewed bandages, picked lint,knitted stockings and soldiers' vests----"
"_Why?_" I demanded.
"I asked her that, John. And she answered that there was nobody here tocare for a sick man's comfort, and that Dr. Thatcher had told her youwould die if they moved you to
Johnstown hospital.
"I thought she'd become frightened and leave when the Continentalsmarched out; they all came--the officers--where she sat a-knitting bythe apple-tree; but she only laughed at their importunities, made lightof any dangers to be apprehended, and refused a seat on their campwagon. And it pleased me, John, to see how doleful and crestfallen weresome among those same young blue-and-buffs when they were obliged toride away that morning and leave here there a-sewing up your shirt whereBalty's bullet had rent it."
A slight thrill shot me through. But it died cold. And I thought ofSteve Watts, and of her in his embrace under the lilacs.
If she now remained here it was for no reason concerning me. It wasbecause she thought her lover might return some night and take her inhis arms again. That was the reason.
And with this miserable conclusion, a more dreadful doubt seized me.What of the loyalty of a girl whose lover is a King's man?
I remembered how, in the blossoming orchard, she had whispered to methat she was a friend to liberty.
Was that to be believed of a maid whose lover came into our camp a spy?
I lay back on my pillow and closed my eyes. What was this girl to methat I should care one way or the other?
Nick took my platter and went away, leaving me to sleep as I seemed todesire it.
But I had no desire to sleep. And as I lay there, I became sensible thatmy entire and battered body was almost imperceptibly a-tremble.