His compliments were received as graciously as
they were offered, and after exchanging a few words with the different
individuals present, he approached the surgeon, who had withdrawn, in a
kind of confused astonishment, to rally his senses.
"John," whispered the surgeon, with awakened curiosity, "what means this
festival?"
"That your wig and my black head would look the better for a little of
Betty Flanagan's flour; but it is too late now, and we must fight the
battle armed as you see."
"Observe, here comes the army chaplain in his full robes, as a Doctor
Divinitatis; what can it mean?"
"An exchange," said the trooper. "The wounded of Cupid are to meet and
settle their accounts with the god, in the way of plighting faith to
suffer from his archery no more."
The surgeon laid a finger on the side of his nose, and he began to
comprehend the case.
"Is it not a crying shame, that a sunshine hero, and an enemy, should
thus be suffered to steal away one of the fairest plants that grow in
our soil," muttered Lawton; "a flower fit to be placed in the bosom
of any man!"
"If he be not more accommodating as a husband than as a patient, John, I
fear me that the lady will lead a troubled life."
"Let her," said the trooper, indignantly; "she has chosen from her
country's enemies, and may she meet with a foreigner's virtues in
her choice.
Pages:
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385