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PAGE 2

The Blue and the Gray
by [?]

Murry saw his lips move, but caught no sound, and asked, with friendly solicitude, “Do you want anything, neighbor?”

“Yes, to be let alone,” was the curt reply, with a savage frown.

“That’s easily done. I sha’n’t trouble you very long, any way;” and, with a sigh, Murry turned his face away, and lay silent till the surgeon came up on his morning round.

“Oh! you’re here, are you? It’s like Mercy Carrol to take you in,” said Dr. Fitz Hugh, as he surveyed the rebel, with a slight frown; for, in spite of his benevolence and skill, he was a stanch loyalist, and hated the South just then.

“Don’t praise me; he never would have been here but for Murry,” answered Miss Mercy, as she approached, with her dressing-tray in her hand.

“Bless the lad! he’ll give up his bed next, and feel offended if he’s thanked for it. How are you, my good fellow?” and the doctor turned to press the hot hand, with a friendly face.

“Much easier and stronger, thank you, doctor,” was the cheerful answer.

“Less fever, pulse better, breath freer–good symptoms. Keep on so for twenty-four hours, and, by my soul, I believe you’ll have a chance for your life, Murry,” cried the doctor, as his experienced eye took note of a hopeful change.

“In spite of the opinion of three good surgeons to the contrary?” asked Murry, with a wistful smile.

“Hang everybody’s opinion! We are but mortal men, and the best of us make mistakes in spite of science and experience. There’s Parker; we all gave him up, and the rascal is larking ’round Washington as well as ever to-day. While there’s life there’s hope; so cheer up my lad, and do your best for the little girl at home.”

“Do you really think I may hope?” cried Murry, white with the joy of this unexpected reprieve.

“Hope is a capital medicine, and I prescribe it for a day at least. Don’t build on this change too much, but if you are as well to-morrow as this morning, I give you my word I think you’ll pull through.”

Murry laid his hands over his face with a broken “Thank God for that!” and the doctor turned away with a sonorous “Hem!” and an air of intense satisfaction.

During this conversation Miss Mercy had been watching the rebel, who looked and listened to the others so intently that he forgot her presence. She saw an expression of rage and disappointment gather in his face as the doctor spoke; and when Murry accepted the hope held out to him, Clay set his teeth with an evil look, that would have boded ill for his neighbor had he not been helpless.

“Ungrateful traitor! I’ll watch him, for he’ll do mischief if he can,” she thought, and reluctantly began to unbind his arm for the doctor’s inspection.

“Only a flesh-wound, no bones broken, a good syringing, rubber cushion, plenty of water, and it will soon heal. You’ll attend to that, Miss Mercy; this stump is more in my line;” and Dr. Fitz Hugh turned to the leg, leaving the arm to the nurse’s skilful care.

“Evidently amputated in a hurry, and neglected since. If you’re not careful, young man, you’ll change places with your neighbor here.”

“Damn him!” muttered Clay in his beard, with an emphasis which caused the doctor to glance at his vengeful face.

“Don’t be a brute, if you can help it. But for him you’d have fared ill,” began the doctor.

“But for him I never should have been here,” muttered the man, in French, with a furtive glance about the room.

“You owe this to him?” asked the doctor, touching the wound, and speaking in the same tongue.

“Yes; but he paid for it at least, I thought he had.”

“By the Lord! if you are the sneaking rascal that shot him as he lay wounded in the ambulance, I shall be tempted to leave you to your fate!” cried the doctor, with a wrathful flash in his keen eyes.

“Do it, then, for it was I,” answered the man defiantly; adding, as if anxious to explain, “We had a tussle, and each got hurt in the thick of the skirmish. He was put in the ambulance afterward, and I was left to live or die, as luck would have it. I was hurt the worst; they should have taken me too; it made me mad to see him chosen, and I fired my last shot as he drove away. I didn’t know whether I hit him or not; but when they told me I must lose my leg I hoped I had, and now I am satisfied.”