The Yellow Rose Part 9
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The girl clapped her hands to her face, "How did I know it was poison?"
she asked.
"Klarika," said the doctor, "do not startle me more or I shall jump out of the window. Surely _you_ did not poison Sandor?"
The girl nodded mutely.
"And what in thunder did you do it for?"
"He was so unkind to me, and once a gypsy woman made me believe that if I steeped that root in his wine I should have him at my feet again."
"Well, I never! . . . You must hold traffic with gypsy women, must you?
To school you won't go, where the master would teach you to distinguish poisonous plants. No, no, you will only learn from a gypsy vagabond!
Well, you have made your lad nice and obedient!"
"Will he die?" asked the girl with an imploring look.
"Die? Must he die next? No, his body and soul are not st.i.tched together in such a ramshackle fas.h.i.+on."
"Then he will live!" cried the girl, and knelt down before the doctor, s.n.a.t.c.hing his hands, and kissing them repeatedly.
"Don't kiss my hand," said he, "it is all over mustard plaster, and will make your mouth swell."
So she kissed his feet, and when he forbade that, also his footprints.
Down on the brick floor she went and kissed the muddy footprints with her pretty, rosy lips.
"Now, stand up and talk sense," said the doctor. "Have you brought the coffee? ground and roasted? Right--for that is what he must drink till the doctor comes. It is well you told me what poison the lad took, for now I know the antidote. But as for you, child, make up your mind to vanish from these parts as soon as you like, for what you have done is a crime, which the town doctor will report, and the matter will come before the court and judge. So fly away, where there are no tongues to tell on you."
"I won't fly," said the girl, drying her tears with her ap.r.o.n. "Here is my neck, more I can't offer. If I have done wrong, it is only just that I should suffer for it, but from this spot I won't stir! The groaning I hear through the door binds me faster than if my feet were in fetters.
Doctor! sir! for G.o.d's sake let me be near to nurse him, to foment his head, smooth his pillows, and wipe the sweat from his brow."
"Indeed! Is that your idea? Why, they would clap me into the madhouse, if I entrusted the nursing of the victim to the poisoner."
A look of unspeakable pain came over the girl's face.
"Does the doctor believe that I am really bad then?" she asked. Glancing round she caught sight of the d.a.m.natory root lying on the window-sill, and before he could stop her, had grasped it, and was putting it into her mouth.
"No, no, Klarika," said the doctor, "do not play with that poison. Don't bite it, take it out of your mouth instantly. I would rather allow you to go to the patient, though it is no sight for you, as I tell you beforehand. No tender-hearted person should see such suffering."
"I know; your a.s.sistant told me everything. How one cannot recognise him, his face is so changed. Dark blotches instead of healthy red colour, death-like shadow on his forehead, and cold perspiration s.h.i.+ning on his cheeks. His eyes are wide open with a gla.s.sy stare, his lips seem gummed together, and if he opens them they foam. How he groans, struggles, gnashes his teeth, tosses his arms about, and contorts his back! An agonising sight! But let this be my punishment, to feel his moans and sufferings, like so many sharp knives stabbing my heart. And if I do not actually witness them with my own eyes and ears, I shall still seem to see and hear them as acutely as if I was really present."
"Well," said the doctor, "let us see if you are really brave enough.
Take charge of the coffee-pot, and have black coffee always ready; but if you burst out crying I will push you out of the room."
Then he opened the door and allowed her to enter.
The world went blue and green to the girl as her eyes fell on her sweetheart lying there. Where was the radiant young fellow who had left her such a short time ago? Now it was painful to look at him, to endure the sight of him.
The doctor called in his a.s.sistant, and the girl stifled her sobs as best she might, over the coffee-pot. If the doctor caught the sound of one he would glance at her reproachfully, and she would pretend it was a cough.
The two men applied mustard plasters to the patient's feet.
"Now bring your coffee and pour it into his mouth," said the doctor.
But that was a business! Both had to exert their full strength to hold down the lad's arms, and prevent his flinging them about.
"Now, Klarika, open his mouth; not like that! You must force his teeth apart with the chisel. Don't be afraid, he won't swallow it. See, he holds it as fast as a vice."
The girl obeyed.
"Now pour in the coffee by the spout, gently. There you are a clever girl. I can recommend you to the Sisters of Mercy as a sick nurse!"
There was a smile on the girl's face, but her heart was breaking.
"If only he would not look at me with those eyes!"
"Yes," said the doctor, "that is the worst of all, those two staring eyes. I think so too."
At length there seemed some little improvement, possibly the effect of the remedy. The patient's groans became less frequent, and the cramp in his limbs relaxed, but his forehead burned like fire. The doctor instructed the girl how to wring out the cold water bandage--lay it on the aching head, leave it a little, and then change it again. She did all that he bade her.
"Now I see that you have a brave heart," he said, and in time came her reward, for to her joy the sufferer suddenly closed his eyelids, and the terrible stare of those black-shadowed eyes ceased altogether. Later his mouth relaxed and they were able to open the close-shut jaws without difficulty.
Maybe it was the prompt application of the antidote; maybe the dose of poison had not been strong, but by the time the doctor from town had arrived, the patient was very unmistakably better. The veterinary and the doctor conversed in Latin, which the girl could not understand, but her instinct told her that it was of her they were speaking. Then the doctor ordered this and that, and after writing the _usum repertum_, returned to his carriage, and hastened back to town.
Not so the gendarme whom he had brought with him on the box. He remained. Hardly had the physician gone, when another trap rumbled into the yard. This was the Hortobagy innkeeper, who had come to demand his daughter.
"Gently now, master," they said, "the young woman is under arrest. Don't you see the gendarme?"
"I always did say that when once a girl loses her head she goes mad altogether. Well, it's no concern of mine." And with charming indifference the old innkeeper thereupon turned and drove back to the Hortobagy inn.
CHAPTER V.
All night long the girl watched beside him--to no one would she yield her place at the sick bed. She had been up till dawn the night before as well, but how differently occupied! This was her penance.
Now and then she nodded sleepily in her chair, but the slightest moan from the sick man sufficed to wake her. Sometimes she renewed the cold bandage on his head, and bathed her own eyes to keep herself awake. At the first c.o.c.k-crow kindly sleep settled softly on the patient. He stretched himself out and began to snore with beautiful regularity. At first the girl was terrified, and thought the death struggle was at hand, but presently she grew very happy. This was a good honest snore, such as could only emanate from healthy lungs; and besides, as she reflected, it kept her wide awake. When the c.o.c.k crew for the second time, he was in a sound slumber.
Then he started from sleep and yawned widely.
Thank heaven! He could yawn again.
The spasms had quite ceased, and all who suffer from their nerves know the worth of a good yawn after the attack. It is as good as a lottery prize.
The girl wished to give him more coffee, but the man shook his head.
"Water," he murmured.
So she rapped through to the doctor, who was reposing in the next room, to know if she might give the patient water, as he was asking for it.
The Yellow Rose Part 9
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The Yellow Rose Part 9 summary
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