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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Spy"

Some time was occupied in joint attentions
to the comfort of the wounded officer, and the doctor retired to an
apartment prepared for his own accommodation; here, within a few
minutes, he was surprised by the entrance of Lawton. The triumph of the
trooper had been so complete, that he felt he could afford to be
generous, and commencing by voluntarily throwing aside his coat, he
cried carelessly,--
"Sitgreaves, administer a little of the aid of the lights of science to
my body, if you please."
The surgeon was beginning to feel this was a subject that was
intolerable, but venturing a glance towards his comrade, he saw with
surprise the preparations he had made, and an air of sincerity about
him, that was unusual to his manner when making such a request. Changing
his intended burst of resentment to a tone of civil inquiry, he said,--
"Does Captain Lawton want anything at my hands?"
"Look for yourself, my dear sir," said the trooper mildly. "Here seem to
be most of the colors of the rainbow, on this shoulder."
"You have reason for saying so," said the other, handling the part with
great tenderness and consummate skill. "But happily nothing is broken.
It is wonderful how well you escaped!"
"I have been a tumbler from my youth, and I am past minding a few falls
from a horse; but, Sitgreaves," he added with affection, and pointing to
a scar on his body, "do you remember this bit of work?"
"Perfectly well, Jack; it was bravely obtained, and neatly extracted;
but don't you think I had better apply an oil to these bruises?"
"Certainly," said Lawton, with unexpected condescension.


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