“I just asked a question,” declared Mattie boldly.
“It was a highly improper question,” I informed her, “as you know well enough. It certainly deserves no answer but in order to prevent your speculating on the subject in the presence of others, I will assure you that my decision is entirely an objective one. I am not going to cut off the Yankee’s leg out of fear or anger or pity or any provocation other than common sense and cold logic. I am going to do it because I have decided it is the only reasonable thing to do.”
“Reasonable for him?”
“Yes!” I almost shouted, “for him!”
“All right,” she answered coyly. “There ain’t no need to get upset about it. I just wanted to make sure that you were sure, that’s all. Drink your tea now before it gets cold. You want me to bring you up some nice turnip soup and some greens and maybe a little of that bacon we got left?”
“No, I don’t want anything,” I told her.
“You got to get something in your stomach before you start workin on that boy. You got to be strong and steady and not the least speck light-headed. It ain’t gonna be a very pleasant thing and you wouldn’t want to go faintin in the middle of it the way Miss Harriet almost did this mornin. I’ll have some soup ready for you when you come downstairs and I’m gonna stand right over you until you swallow all of it.”
She left the room then, having once again demonstrated her sly ability to move from outright defiance and arrogance to the most persuasive and—if you didn’t know her—endearing solicitude. Well I do know her and I am not taken in by these abrupt changes of face. However my anger had abated by that time with the realization that the problem of Mattie was not a new one, nor was it anything which could be solved in the way such problems were dealt with in the days before the war. You cannot sell off your vexations any more, if there is no one to buy them. You must put up with them, and wear them like the proverbial millstone, until the times get better—which they are bound to do, I think, since they can hardly get any worse.
Meditating thus I drank my herb tea, then changed into an old but clean gingham dress and pinned my hair securely so that it would not come loose and interfere with my vision, and finally scrubbed my hands and arms well with soap and water and a hard brush, and then, assured that I had done all I could to prepare myself, came downstairs to see how my hospital arrangements were coming on.
And indeed the dining room had taken on the appearance of a makeshift hospital when I arrived there. Mattie and the girls had taken up the carpet and removed the chairs; Emily now was applying tallow soap and steaming hot water to my beloved walnut table; Alice and Marie were racing excitedly about the house gathering the stock of cloth I had requested and this, I noted with approval, was being piled on a stand adjacent to the table. In an excess of enthusiasm one of the workers had even decided to collect all the medication in the house and these bottles and jars were piled on another stand. I anticipated no need for stomach sweeteners or rheumatism salves or any of my sister’s headache remedies, but not wishing to discourage zeal, I smiled privately and said nothing.
Mattie I found in the kitchen, boiling and scouring the cutting instruments as I had requested. My good humor was all but restored now and I was satisfied that the arrangements were proceeding satisfactorily. Therefore I accepted the bowl of turnip soup which my erstwhile antagonist silently ladled out for me and sat down to eat a few spoonfuls of it.
“Where is Miss Harriet?” I asked her.
“She’s across the hall keepin watch on the Yankee. I don’t think she’s goin to be much help to you when you get down to the business.”
“I’m not counting on her for much help,” I said civily. “Where is young Amelia?”
“She run off somewheres. She ain’t in favor of what you’re gonna do either.”
“That’s too bad,” I answered, ignoring the “either.” “I’m sorry we can’t run an Athenian democracy here which would permit us to be guided by Amelia Dabney and everyone else. I’m afraid of Miss Amelia becoming as headstrong as Marie Deveraux. Very likely it’s a result of too much association with Marie. Perhaps it would be wise to put them in separate bedrooms.”
“I don’t think you’re right in punishin the child just because she’s tenderhearted.”
“Three items for you to ponder, Mattie,” I said, irritated again. “First, I’m not thinking of punishing her. Second, tenderness of heart is not necessarily a virtue—indeed, under some circumstances, it may be a folly. Third, when I want your advice, I’ll ask for it.”
“Finish your soup before it gets cold,” said she imperturbed.
I did so quickly, no longer enjoying it, and then went across the hall to have a look at my patient. He was, as Mattie had reported, quite unconscious now. My sister was seated beside him treating herself to a glass of wine.
“This is the last of it,” she explained. “I thought I might as well finish it off.”
“It may be the last of that particular bottle,” said I, “which only means that if he wakes up again during the proceedings we shall have to open a new bottle.”
“It might be better to do that anyway, sister. It might be wise to have a fresh bottle ready, mightn’t it, just to be on the safe side?”
Here, of course, was another eternal thorn in my side and this one—war or no war—I could do absolutely nothing about.
“Corks can be pulled instantly,” I reminded her, “and Madeira spoils after it has been exposed to air.”
“Yes, that’s true,” said Harriet with a sigh. “Isn’t it a shame we don’t have any more of the plum brandy Marie’s father sent to us? Brandy would be an even better narcotic than wine.”
“Yes, it would be,” I agreed. “It is too bad we don’t have any more brandy and it is also too bad we didn’t save what we had.”
My sister made no reply to this beyond another sigh—or perhaps it was an eructation. I didn’t attempt to distinguish, but instead returned to the door and summoned Mattie and the girls from across the hall.
“We’re going to move Corporal McBurney to the dining room now,” I explained when they arrived, “and you’ll all have to lend a hand.”
“Are you going to use my method again?” asked Emily. “Shall we pull him over as we pulled him downstairs last night?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “For one thing I don’t want to awaken him if I can help it. Also there would still be the problem of lifting him up on to the table which is much higher than the settee.”
“Why not make a sling of some kind,” my sister suggested. “Fold a bed sheet and sew it to a pair of broomsticks, or maybe two vine poles would be better. I presume we would need something of that sort anyway to move him . . . when you’re finished with him. . . .”
“That is an excellent idea, sister,” I said. “It shows your mind is still productive when you use it properly. Vine poles would be better, I think—they’re stronger. Go out of the barn and select two sturdy ones, Emily. And you get one of the sheets from the supply in the dining room, Alice, and Marie, fetch my sewing basket from my room.”
“No, fetch my sewing basket,” said my sister. “Let me do it, Martha . . . I thought of it.”
“All right,” I consented without rancour. “I suppose you might as well try something useful. But be quick about it. I want to have the best of the afternoon’s sunlight for this task. Meanwhile the rest of us will continue with the other preparations. The girls and Mattie will return to their work in the kitchen and dining room while I do a little medical browsing in the library. You call out, Harriet, as soon as you’re finished with the sling.”
She did so and in comparatively short order too. It took her no longer than fifteen minutes to sew the cloth securely to the poles—and with neat, straight stitches, too, notwithstanding the nervous state she was in. I took the time to compliment her on the work and she managed to
smile a bit, though still biting her lip.
“I wanted to make it strong enough so that Corporal McBurney wouldn’t fall again and be injured even more seriously,” she said. “Do you think it will suit your needs otherwise? You see I’ve left a good space on either end of the cloth so that four people can carry the poles.”
“It’s very nice, Harriet,” I said. “You are a good seamstress. No one will ever deny that. Now if you will help us carry Mister McBurney across the hall, I will not insist that you take any further part in the proceedings. I know you have an unusually weak nature and I think it might be better not to bring you into this at all, rather than be charged for your reluctant assistance by a fainting spell or some other kind of disturbing commotion. Therefore, I won’t hold it against you if you leave the project to the rest of us, while you retire to your room and pray for our success.”
“Do you know . . . I think I might prefer to be present,” she answered. “I may be of little physical value, as you say, but I promise not to cause you any trouble. As long as you say the thing is necessary . . . and must be done today . . . then I feel it is my duty . . . not to leave you here alone . . . with these children. . . .”
“Bravo, Miss Harriet,” said Emily. “That’s the spirit. That’s the very thing our brave boys always say to themselves before they go into battle. Even though they don’t want to do it, they go ahead anyway, without complaining, because that’s the only way we’re ever going to win this war.”
“Bosh,” said Marie. “They go ahead because there’s a great line of generals behind them ready to prick them with swords and bayonets if they don’t go.”
“Miss Martha,” Emily cried, “are you going to permit this treasonable talk in your school?”
“I’m not going to permit any more talk at all—on any subject,” I announced. “We have work to do. Now, Harriet, you and Mattie each take an end of the sling while Emily and I lift his shoulders on to it. Then Emily will join you at the front end, Harriet, while I lift his feet on to the other. Finally, I will join Mattie on the other pole at the foot end. Is that clear to all?”
“It’s very clear, but isn’t there something I can do?” Alice wanted to know.
“You can walk beside and steady him so that he won’t be jostled too much.”
“What about me?” Marie demanded indignantly. “Am I to be left completely out of it?”
“You can walk on the other side and make sure he doesn’t fall off. Also, you can carry this anatomy book and Miss Harriet’s sewing basket. Are we all ready now?”
“I’m doing this for his sake,” my sister muttered. “I know it’s for the best. I would never sleep again if I wasn’t there . . . and something happened to him. . . .”
“All right, Emily,” I said. “Let us lift together.”
And we did so. We raised him and moved him on to the carrying sling even more quickly and smoothly than I had anticipated. The whole movement was accomplished so efficiently that Corporal McBurney never blinked an eye or ceased his open-mouth snoring.
We carried him, as gently and securely as we might have a crate of new eggs, across the hall to the dining room and then with a concerted effort—assisted this time by Marie Deveraux who was small enough to get beneath the sling and push upward—we lifted our patient on to the scrubbed and spotless dining-room table and then slid the sling out from beneath him.
“There we are,” said I. “The parcel wrapped and delivered safe and sound. Well done, all of you.”
“Had you thought of awakening him now, sister?” Harriet asked softly.
“Awakening him! For pity’s sake, we’ve used three bottles of wine to put him to sleep.”
“I know,” she persisted, “but I was thinking perhaps you wanted to ask him . . . you know . . . just ask him if he is certain he wants this thing done. We have more wine . . . we could put him to sleep again.”
“Harriet,” I said, trying to suppress my annoyance, “you just stated that you knew what we’re going to do was for the best. I know it to be for the best, as do Mattie and these young ladies. We can see and judge the condition of this boy’s leg, much more capably than he can. Will it serve any purpose to arouse him now and ask him once again for his permission? He has given it once—and I realize he was somewhat intoxicated then. He would still be intoxicated, if we were to awaken him now, and whether or not he gave us his permission this time. I’d still vote to go ahead with it. Now I am getting a little tired of continually having to convince people of what is correct and proper and justifiable in this case. I get a bit weighted down with responsibility sometimes too, you know, and therefore I am now willing to pass this present load on to whomever is able to shoulder it. Now what do you say, Harriet? Shall we awaken him and chance subjecting him to pain?”
“No . . . no.”
“Perhaps I’ve been too hasty here. Perhaps I’ll leave the decision up to you. What about it, Harriet? Shall we take his leg off now, or let him die from the poison in it?”
“Please, Martha!”
“Answer me, Harriet.”
I waited. She opened her mouth to speak, but could not. I folded my arms and watched her steadily as did the rest of the company. Finally, after quite a long while, she said, “Do whatever you think is right. Martha. I will share your responsibility but don’t make it all mine.”
“We may proceed then?”
“Yes, damn you, go ahead,” she shouted. “Cut off both his legs if that will satisfy you!”
“Harriet,” I said quietly, “you are not in a normal state of mind.”
“I’m not drunk,” she said, staring defiantly at me, “if that’s what you mean.”
“Whatever you are, there are students present. I must ask you to withdraw.”
“And I must tell you I refuse to go! I’ve accepted half the responsibility, I have an investment in this and so I intend to remain and be a spectator, if nothing else. You needn’t be alarmed, Martha. I won’t make any more disturbance. I can’t afford to upset you, can I, and cause your hand to tremble maybe . . . if half the guilt is going to be mine. . . .”
She was ashen and seemed on the verge of collapse and so I decided it best not to debate the matter with her—especially since the students were gathered around us, wide eyed and obviously enjoying our discomfort. The only sensible course now, I decided, was to have done with the business as quickly as possible. My differences with Harriet could wait until later.
“As you wish,” I said. “Marie, you may leave the room.”
“Why?” that young person yelled. “I’m sure I can be of as much service here as Alice or Emily!”
“Alice and Emily are both some years older than you. I am appreciative of your desire to help, but there is nothing you can do here.”
“Go find Amelia, dear,” Harriet told her in a voice more calm than her appearance might have indicated. “Find your roommate and try to comfort her. That will be a most useful task for which Miss Martha and I will be very grateful.”
Marie’s little Latin temper was not to be soothed that easily, but she obeyed me anyway—leaving the room and slamming the door so hard that every window in the house was shaken. I made a mental note, adding Marie to my list of problems awaiting later solution.
For the present I made no comment on her outrageous conduct, but instead closed my eyes and waited there at the foot of the table, until the sound of her footsteps pounding up the stairs had ceased. Then I said, “Ladies, we shall begin this work in the way all righteous things should begin—with prayer. We will all bow our heads now and ask Almighty God to bless our efforts and grant us success. We will ask Him also to grant Mister McBurney a speedy return to vitality and health. Finally we will ask that Mister McBurney be granted the gift of understanding, so that he may know the necessity for what may seem in the beginning to be an undue hardship. Until he can overcome this hardship, may he
accept it with resignation as part of Thy divine plan for him.”
We all meditated for a moment on this and then I said, “All right, ladies—to work. Bring the cutting instruments in from the kitchen, Mattie, and place them on a stand near my hand. Emily, you may tear one of these cloths into strips and then wait beside me in case I need a tourniquet. Alice, give me the scissors from Miss Harriet’s basket.”
“Is there anything you wish me to do?” asked the last-mentioned lady, quite meekly now.
“Nothing.”
“I will do whatever you wish.”
I turned and studied her briefly. If she was going to insist on staying, it might be just as well, I decided, to keep her occupied.
“All right, sister, you may read to us. Take this book and open it to the place where I have put the mark. Glance over the checked pages quickly. In a moment I will ask you to read the passages I have underlined.”
The book was Gray’s Anatomy of the Human Body, which I had purchased in Richmond some years previously, intending to use it as a text in practical science. We have never established that course as part of our regular curriculum and so the book had had little use until this time—beyond an occasional nervous thumbing by some young lady who wanted to acquire some surreptitious knowledge of male physiology.
I took the scissors now and cut away McBurney’s right trouser leg above the knee. The trousers were an old dress pair of my brother’s and I suppose I might have rolled the material up again as I had just a while before when I bandaged the wound, but it might have slipped down and interfered with my work. And in any case McBurney would never need that trouser leg again.
“He’s so pale now—how like Robert he looks,” I thought. I had noticed that resemblance before, on McBurney’s second day in our house. It caused me then to feel a great pity for him and it caused me now to hesitate briefly before going on to cut the bandages I had wrapped and tied so carefully only a short time before.
The leg was exposed now and I noted that my stitches were still holding nicely though, of course, there had been no strain on them. The calf was still discolored, although the swelling might have been reduced somewhat since my last inspection.
The Beguiled Page 30
