TEN years earlier Christie made her début as an Amazon, now she hada braver part to play on a larger stage, with a nation for audience,martial music and the boom of cannon1 for orchestra; the glare ofbattle-fields was the "red light;" danger, disease, and death, thefoes she was to contend against; and the troupe2 she joined, nottimid girls, but high-hearted women, who fought gallantly3 till the"demon" lay dead, and sang their song of exultation4 with bleedinghearts, for this great spectacle was a dire5 tragedy to them.
Christie followed David in a week, and soon proved herself socapable that Mrs. Amory rapidly promoted her from one important postto another, and bestowed6 upon her the only honors left the women,hard work, responsibility, and the gratitude7 of many men.
"You are a treasure, my dear, for you can turn your hand to anything and do well whatever you undertake. So many come with plentyof good-will, but not a particle of practical ability, and areoffended because I decline their help. The boys don't want to becried over, or have their brows 'everlastingly8 swabbed,' as oldWatkins calls it: they want to be well fed and nursed, and cheeredup with creature comforts. Your nice beef-tea and cheery ways areworth oceans of tears and cart-loads of tracts9."Mrs. Amory said this, as Christie stood waiting while she wrote anorder for some extra delicacy10 for a very sick patient. Mrs.
Sterling11, Jr., certainly did look like an efficient nurse, whothought more of "the boys" than of herself; for one hand bore apitcher of gruel12, the other a bag of oranges, clean shirts hung overthe right arm, a rubber cushion under the left, and every pocket inthe big apron13 was full of bottles and bandages, papers and letters.
"I never discovered what an accomplished14 woman I was till I camehere," answered Christie, laughing. "I'm getting vain with so muchpraise, but I like it immensely, and never was so pleased in my lifeas I was yesterday when Dr. Harvey came for me to take care of poorDunbar, because no one else could manage him.""It's your firm yet pitiful way the men like so well. I can'tdescribe it better than in big Ben's words: 'Mis Sterlin' is thenuss for me, marm. She takes care of me as ef she was my own mother,and it's a comfort jest to see her round.' It's a gift, my dear, andyou may thank heaven you have got it, for it works wonders in aplace like this.""I only treat the poor fellows as I would have other women treat myDavid if he should be in their care. He may be any hour, you know.""And my boys, God keep them!"The pen lay idle, and the gruel cooled, as young wife andgray-haired mother forgot their duty for a moment in tender thoughtsof the absent. Only a moment, for in came an attendant with atroubled face, and an important young surgeon with the well-wornlittle case under his arm.
"Bartlett 's dying, marm: could you come and see to him?" says theman to Mrs. Amory.
"We have got to amputate Porter's arm this morning, and he won'tconsent unless you are with him. You will come, of course?" addedthe surgeon to Christie, having tried and found her a woman with no"confounded nerves" to impair15 her usefulness.
So matron and nurse go back to their duty, and dying Bartlett andsuffering Porter are all the more tenderly served for that wastedminute.
Like David, Christie had enlisted16 for the war, and in the two yearsthat followed, she saw all sorts of service; for Mrs. Amory hadinfluence, and her right-hand woman, after a few months'
apprenticeship, was ready for any post. The gray gown and comfortingface were known in many hospitals, seen on crowded transports, amongthe ambulances at the front, invalid17 cars, relief tents, and fooddepots up and down the land, and many men went out of life liketired children holding the hand that did its work so well.
David meanwhile was doing his part manfully, not only in some of thegreat battles of those years, but among the hardships, temptations,and sacrifices of a soldiers' life. Spite of his Quaker ancestors,he was a good fighter, and, better still, a magnanimous enemy,hating slavery, but not the slave-holder, and often spared themaster while he saved the chattel18. He was soon promoted, and mighthave risen rapidly, but was content to remain as captain of hiscompany; for his men loved him, and he was prouder of his influenceover them than of any decoration he could win.
His was the sort of courage that keeps a man faithful to death, andthough he made no brilliant charge, uttered few protestations ofloyalty, and was never heard to "damn the rebs," his comrades feltthat his brave example had often kept them steady till a forlornhope turned into a victory, knew that all the wealth of the worldcould not bribe19 him from his duty, and learned of him to treat withrespect an enemy as brave and less fortunate than themselves. Anoble nature soon takes its proper rank and exerts its purifyinginfluence, and Private Sterling won confidence, affection, andrespect, long before promotion20 came; for, though he had tended hisflowers like a woman and loved his books like a student, he nowproved that he could also do his duty and keep his honor stainlessas a soldier and a gentleman.
He and Christie met as often as the one could get a brief furlough,or the other be spared from hospital duty; but when these meetingsdid come, they were wonderfully beautiful and rich, for into themwas distilled21 a concentration of the love, happiness, and communionwhich many men and women only know through years of wedded22 life.
Christie liked romance, and now she had it, with a very sombrereality to give it an added charm. No Juliet ever welcomed her Romeomore joyfully23 than she welcomed David when he paid her a flyingvisit unexpectedly; no Bayard ever had a more devoted24 lady in histent than David, when his wife came through every obstacle to bringhim comforts or to nurse the few wounds he received. Love-letters,written beside watch-fires and sick-beds, flew to and fro likecarrier-doves with wondrous25 speed; and nowhere in all the brave andbusy land was there a fonder pair than this, although theirhoneymoon was spent apart in camp and hospital, and well they knewthat there might never be for them a happy going home together.
In her wanderings to and fro, Christie not only made many newfriends, but met some old ones; and among these one whose unexpectedappearance much surprised and touched her.
She was "scrabbling" eggs in a tin basin on board a crowdedtransport, going up the river with the echoes of a battle dying awaybehind her, and before her the prospect26 of passing the next day on awharf serving out food to the wounded in an easterly storm.
"O Mrs. Sterling, do go up and see what's to be done! We are allfull below, and more poor fellows are lying about on deck in adreadful state. I'll take your place here, but I can't stand thatany longer," said one of her aids, coming in heart-sick andexhausted by the ghastly sights and terrible confusion of the day.
"I'll go: keep scrabbling while the eggs last, then knock out thehead of that barrel and make gruel till I pass the word to stop."Forgetting her bonnet28, and tying the ends of her shawl behind her,Christie caught up a bottle of brandy and a canteen of water, andran on deck. There a sight to daunt29 most any woman, met her eyes;for all about her, so thick that she could hardly step withouttreading on them, lay the sad wrecks30 of men: some moaning for help;some silent, with set, white faces turned up to the gray sky; allshelterless from the cold wind that blew, and the fog rising fromthe river. Surgeons and nurses were doing their best; but the boatwas loaded, and greater suffering reigned31 below.
"Heaven help us all!" sighed Christie, and then she fell to work.
Bottle and canteen were both nearly empty by the time she came tothe end of the long line, where lay a silent figure with a hiddenface. "Poor fellow, is he dead?" she said, kneeling down to lift acorner of the blanket lent by a neighbor.
A familiar face looked up at her, and a well remembered voice saidcourteously, but feebly:
"Thanks, not yet. Excuse my left hand. I'm very glad to see you.""Mr. Fletcher, can it be you!" she cried, looking at him withpitiful amazement32. Well she might ask, for any thing more unlike hisformer self can hardly be imagined. Unshaven, haggard, and begrimedwith powder, mud to the knees, coat half on, and, worst of all, theright arm gone, there lay the "piece of elegance33" she had known, andanswered with a smile she never saw before:
"All that's left of me, and very much at your service. I mustapologize for the dirt, but I've laid in a mud-puddle for two days;and, though it was much easier than a board, it doesn't improveone's appearance.""What can I do for you? Where can I put you? I can't bear to see youhere!" said Christie, much afflicted34 by the spectacle before her.
"Why not? we are all alike when it comes to this pass. I shall dovery well if I might trouble you for a draught35 of water."She poured her last drop into his parched36 mouth and hurried off formore. She was detained by the way, and, when she returned, fanciedhe was asleep, but soon discovered that he had fainted quietly away,utterly spent with two days of hunger, suffering, and exposure. Hewas himself again directly, and lay contentedly37 looking up at her asshe fed him with hot soup, longing38 to talk, but refusing to listento a word till he was refreshed.
"That's very nice," he said gratefully, as he finished, adding witha pathetic sort of gayety, as he groped about with his one hand: "Idon't expect napkins, but I should like a handkerchief. They took mycoat off when they did my arm, and the gentleman who kindly39 lent methis doesn't seem to have possessed40 such an article."Christie wiped his lips with the clean towel at her side, and smiledas she did it, at the idea of Mr. Fletcher's praising burnt soup,and her feeding him like a baby out of a tin cup.
"I think it would comfort you if I washed your face: can you bear tohave it done?" she asked.
"If you can bear to do it," he answered, with an apologetic look,evidently troubled at receiving such services from her.
Yet as her hands moved gently about his face, he shut his eyes, andthere was a little quiver of the lips now and then, as if he wasremembering a time when he had hoped to have her near him in atenderer capacity than that of nurse. She guessed the thought, andtried to banish41 it by saying cheerfully as she finished:
"There, you look more like yourself after that. Now the hands.""Fortunately for you, there is but one," and he rather reluctantlysurrendered a very dirty member.
"Forgive me, I forgot. It is a brave hand, and I am proud to washit!""How do you know that?" he asked, surprised at her little burst ofenthusiasm, for as she spoke42 she pressed the grimy hand in both herown.
"While I was recovering you from your faint, that man over thereinformed me that you were his Colonel; that you 'fit like a tiger,'
and when your right arm was disabled, you took your sword in theleft and cheered them on as if you 'were bound to beat the wholerebel army.'""That's Drake's story," and Mr. Fletcher tried to give the oldshrug, but gave an irrepressible groan43 instead, then endeavored tocover it, by saying in a careless tone, "I thought I might get alittle excitement out of it, so I went soldiering like all the restof you. I'm not good for much, but I can lead the way for the bravefellows who do the work. Officers make good targets, and a rebelbullet would cause no sorrow in taking me out of the world.""Don't say that! I should grieve sincerely; and yet I'm very gladyou came, for it will always be a satisfaction to you in spite ofyour great loss.""There are greater losses than right arms," muttered Mr. Fletchergloomily, then checked himself, and added with a pleasant change invoice44 and face, as he glanced at the wedding-ring she wore:
"This is not exactly the place for congratulations, but I can't helpoffering mine; for if I'm not mistaken your left hand also has growndoubly precious since we met?"Christie had been wondering if he knew, and was much relieved tofind he took it so well. Her face said more than her words, as sheanswered briefly45:
"Thank you. Yes, we were married the day David left, and have bothbeen in the ranks ever since.""Not wounded yet? your husband, I mean," he said, getting over thehard words bravely.
"Three times, but not badly. I think a special angel stands beforehim with a shield;" and Christie smiled as she spoke.
"I think a special angel stands behind him with prayers that availmuch," added Mr. Fletcher, looking up at her with an expression ofreverence that touched her heart.
"Now I must go to my work, and you to sleep: you need all the restyou can get before you have to knock about in the ambulances again,"she said, marking the feverish46 color in his face, and knowing wellthat excitement was his only strength.
"How can I sleep in such an Inferno47 as this?""Try, you are so weak, you'll soon drop off;" and, laying the cooltips of her fingers on his eyelids48, she kept them shut till heyielded with a long sigh of mingled49 weariness and pleasure, and wasasleep before he knew it.
When he woke it was late at night; but little of night's blessedrest was known on board that boat laden50 with a freight of suffering.
Cries still came up from below, and moans of pain still sounded fromthe deck, where shadowy figures with lanterns went to and fro amongthe beds that in the darkness looked like graves.
Weak with pain and fever, the poor man gazed about him halfbewildered, and, conscious only of one desire, feebly called"Christie!""Here I am;" and the dull light of a lantern showed him her facevery worn arid51 tired, but full of friendliest compassion52.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, as he clutched her gown, andpeered up at her with mingled doubt and satisfaction in his haggardeyes.
"Just speak to me; let me touch you: I thought it was a dream; thankGod it isn't. How much longer will this last?" he added, fallingback on the softest pillows she could find for him.
"We shall soon land now; I believe there is an officers' hospital inthe town, and you will be quite comfortable there.""I want to go to your hospital: where is it?""I have none; and, unless the old hotel is ready, I shall stay onthe wharf27 with the boys until it is.""Then I shall stay also. Don't send me away, Christie: I shall notbe a trouble long; surely David will let you help me die?" and poorFletcher stretched his one hand imploringly53 to her in the firstterror of the delirium54 that was coming on.
"I will not leave you: I'll take care of you, and no one can forbidit. Drink this, Philip, and trust to Christie."He obeyed like a child, and soon fell again into a troubled sleepwhile she sat by him thinking about David.
The old hotel was ready; but by the time he got there Mr. Fletcherwas past caring where he went, and for a week was too ill to knowany thing, except that Christie nursed him. Then he turned thecorner and began to recover. She wanted him to go into morecomfortable quarters; but he would not stir as long as she remained;so she put him in a little room by himself, got a man to wait onhim, and gave him as much of her care and time as she could sparefrom her many duties. He was not an agreeable patient, I regret tosay; he tried to bear his woes55 heroically, but did not succeed verywell, not being used to any exertion56 of that sort; and, though inChristie's presence he did his best, his man confided57 to her thatthe Colonel was "as fractious as a teething baby, and thedomineeringest party he ever nussed."Some of Mr. Fletcher's attempts were comical, and some pathetic, forthough the sacred circle of her wedding-ring was an effectualbarrier against a look or word of love, Christie knew that the oldaffection was not dead, and it showed itself in his desire to winher respect by all sorts of small sacrifices and efforts atself-control. He would not use many of the comforts sent him, butinsisted on wearing an army dressing-gown, and slippers58 that costhim a secret pang59 every time his eye was affronted60 by theirugliness. Always after an angry scene with his servant, he would befound going round among the men bestowing61 little luxuries and kindwords; not condescendingly, but humbly62, as if it was an atonementfor his own shortcomings, and a tribute due to the brave fellows whobore their pains with a fortitude63 he could not imitate.
"Poor Philip, he tries so hard I must pity, not despise him; for hewas never taught the manly64 virtues65 that make David what he is,"thought Christie, as she went to him one day with an unusually happyheart.
She found him sitting with a newly opened package before him, and agloomy look upon his face.
"See what rubbish one of my men has sent me, thinking I might valueit," he said, pointing to a broken sword-hilt and offering her abadly written letter.
She read it, and was touched by its affectionate respect and manlysympathy; for the good fellow had been one of those who saved theColonel when he fell, and had kept the broken sword as a trophy66 ofhis bravery, "thinking it might be precious in the eyes of them thatloved him.""Poor Burny might have spared himself the trouble, for I've no oneto give it to, and in my eyes it's nothing but a bit of old metal,"said Pletcher, pushing the parcel away with a half-irritated,half-melancholy look.
"Give it to me as a parting keepsake. I have a fine collection ofrelics of the brave men I have known; and this shall have a highplace in my museum when I go home," said Christie, taking up the"bit of old metal" with more interest than she had ever felt in thebrightest blade.
"Parting keepsake! are you going away?" asked Fletcher, catching68 atthe words in anxious haste, yet looking pleased at her desire tokeep the relic67.
"Yes, I'm ordered to report in Washington, and start to-morrow.""Then I'll go as escort. The doctor has been wanting me to leave fora week, and now I 've no desire to stay," he said eagerly.
But Christie shook her head, and began to fold up paper and stringwith nervous industry as she answered:
"I am not going directly to Washington: I have a week's furloughfirst.""And what is to become of me?" asked Mr. Fletcher, as fretfully as asick child; for he knew where her short holiday would be passed, andhis temper got the upper-hand for a minute.
"You should go home and be comfortably nursed: you'll need care forsome time; and your friends will be glad of a chance to give it I'veno doubt.""I have no home, as you know; and I don't believe I've got a friendin the world who cares whether I live or die.""This looks as if you were mistaken;" and Christie glanced about thelittle room, which was full of comforts and luxuries accumulatedduring his stay.
His face changed instantly, and he answered with the honest look andtone never given to any one but her.
"I beg your pardon: I'm an ungrateful brute69. But you see I'd justmade up my mind to do something worth the doing, and now it is madeimpossible in a way that renders it hard to bear. You are verypatient with me, and I owe my life to your care: I never can thankyou for it; but I will take myself out of your way as soon as I can,and leave you free to enjoy your happy holiday. Heaven knows youhave earned it!"He said those last words so heartily70 that all the bitterness wentout of his voice, and Christie found it easy to reply with a cordialsmile:
"I shall stay and see you comfortably off before I go myself. As forthanks and reward I have had both; for you have done something worththe doing, and you give me this."She took up the broken blade as she spoke, and carried it away,looking proud of her new trophy.
Fletcher left next day, saying, while he pressed her hand as warmlyas if the vigor71 of two had gone into his one:
"You will let me come and see you by and by when you too get yourdischarge: won't you?""So gladly that you shall never again say you have no home. But youmust take care of yourself, or you will get the long discharge, andwe can't spare you yet," she answered warmly.
"No danger of that: the worthless ones are too often left to cumberthe earth; it is the precious ones who are taken," he said, thinkingof her as he looked into her tired face, and remembered all she haddone for him.
Christie shivered involuntarily at those ominous72 words, but onlysaid, "Good-by, Philip," as he went feebly away, leaning on hisservant's arm, while all the men touched their caps and wished theColonel a pleasant journey.
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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troupe
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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exultation
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dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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bestowed
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gratitude
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everlastingly
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tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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delicacy
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sterling
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gruel
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apron
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accomplished
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impair
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enlisted
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invalid
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chattel
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bribe
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promotion
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distilled
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wedded
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joyfully
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devoted
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wondrous
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prospect
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wharf
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bonnet
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daunt
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wrecks
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reigned
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amazement
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elegance
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afflicted
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draught
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parched
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contentedly
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longing
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kindly
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possessed
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banish
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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groan
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invoice
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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inferno
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| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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imploringly
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| adv. 恳求地, 哀求地 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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affronted
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| adj.被侮辱的，被冒犯的v.勇敢地面对( affront的过去式和过去分词 )；相遇 | |
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bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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trophy
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| n.优胜旗，奖品，奖杯，战胜品，纪念品 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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