CHAPTER XX

About six weeks after my recovery from childbed, some affairs of importance called Mr Montague to London. Three days after he had quitted me, as, bending over the cradle of my babe, I contemplated in silence its tranquil slumbers, I was alarmed by an uncommon confusion in the lower part of the house. Hastening down stairs, to enquire into the cause, I was informed--that a gentleman, in passing through the town, had been thrown from his horse, that he was taken up senseless, and, as was customary in cases of accident, had been brought into our house, that he might receive assistance.

Mr Montague was from home, a young gentleman who resided with us, and assisted my husband in his profession, was also absent, visiting a patient. Having myself acquired some knowledge of surgery, I went immediately into the hall to give the necessary directions on the occasion. The gentleman was lying on the floor, without any signs of life. I desired the people to withdraw, who, crowding round with sincere, but useless sympathy, obstructed the circulation of air. Approaching the unfortunate man, I instantly recognised the well-known features, though much altered, wan and sunk, of _Augustus Harley_. Staggering a few paces backward--a death-like sickness overspread my heart--a crowd of confused and terrible emotions rushed through my mind.--But a momentary reflection recalled my scattered thoughts. Once before, I had saved from death an object so fatal to my repose. I exerted all my powers, his hair was clotted, and his face disfigured with blood; I ordered the servants to raise and carry him to an adjoining apartment, wherein was a large, low sopha, on which they laid him. Carefully washing the blood from the wound, I found he had received a dangerous contusion in his head, but that the scull, as I had at first apprehended, was not fractured. I cut the hair from the wounded part, and applied a proper bandage. I did more--no other assistance being at hand, I ventured to open a vein: the blood presently flowed freely, and he began to revive. I bathed his temples, and sprinkled the room with vinegar, opened the windows to let the air pass freely through, raised his head with the pillows of the sopha, and sprinkled his face and breast with cold water. I held his hand in mine--I felt the languid and wavering pulse quicken--I fixed my eyes upon his face--at that moment every thing else was forgotten, and my nerves seemed firmly braced by my exertions.

He at length opened his eyes, gazed upon me with a vacant look, and vainly attempted, for some time, to speak. At last, he uttered a few incoherent words, but I perceived his senses were wandering, and I conjectured, too truly, that his brain had received a concussion. He made an effort to rise, but sunk down again.

'Where am I,' said he, 'every object appears to me double.'

He shut his eyes, and remained silent. I mixed for him a cordial and composing medicine, and entreating him to take it, he once more raised himself, and looked up.--Our eyes met, his were wild and unsettled.

'That voice,'--said he, in a low tone, 'that countenance--Oh God! where am I?'

A strong, but transient, emotion passed over his features. With a trembling hand he seized and swallowed the medicine I had offered, and again relapsed into a kind of lethargic stupor. I then gave orders for a bed to be prepared, into which I had him conveyed. I darkened the room, and desired, that he might be kept perfectly quiet.

I retired to my apartment, my confinement was yet but recent, and I had not perfectly recovered my strength. Exhausted by the strong efforts I had made, and the stronger agitation of my mind, I sunk into a fainting fit, (to which I was by no means subject) and remained for some time in a state of perfect insensibility. On my recovery, I learnt that Mr Lucas, the assistant of my husband, had returned, and was in the chamber of the stranger; I sent for him on his quitting the apartment, and eagerly interrogated him respecting the state of the patient. He shook his head--I related to him the methods I had taken, and enquired whether I had erred? He smiled--

'You are an excellent surgeon,' said he, 'you acted very properly, but,' observing my pallid looks, 'I wish your little nursery may not suffer from your humanity'--

'I lay no claim,' replied I with emotion--'to extraordinary humanity--I would have done the same for the poorest of my fellow creatures--but this gentleman is an old acquaintance, _a friend_, whom, in the early periods of my life, I greatly respected.'

'I am sorry for it, for I dare not conceal from you, that I think him in a dangerous condition.'

I changed countenance--'There is no fracture, no bones are broken.'--

'No, but the brain has received an alarming concussion--he is also, otherwise, much bruised, and, I fear, has suffered some internal injury.'

'You distress and terrify me,' said I, gasping for breath--'What is to be done--shall we call in further advice?'

'I think so; in the mean time, if you are acquainted with his friends, you would do well to apprize them of what has happened.'

'I know little of them, I know not where to address them--Oh! save him,' continued I, clasping my hands with encreased emotion, unconscious of what I did, 'for God's sake save him, if you would preserve me from dis--'

A look penetrating and curious from Lucas, recalled me to reason. Commending his patient to my care, he quitted me, and rode to the next town to procure the aid of a skilful and experienced Physician. I walked up and down the room for some time in a state of distraction.

'He will die'--exclaimed I--'die in my house--fatal accident! Oh, Augustus! _too tenderly beloved_, thou wert fated to be the ruin of my peace! But, whatever may be the consequences, I will perform, for thee, the last tender offices.--I will not desert my duty!'

The nurse brought to me my infant, it smiled in my face--I pressed it to my bosom--I wept over it.--How could I, from that agitated bosom, give it a pernicious sustenance?