"
"The man's veins are in a burning fever and delirium from aguardiente,"
said the little doctor excitedly, "and the fire must first be put out by
the lancet."
"He is only crazy with remorse for having lost his ship through his own
carelessness and the treachery of others," said Miss Keene doughtily.
"He is a maniac and will kill himself, unless his fever is subdued,"
persisted the doctor.
"And you would surely kill him by your way of subduing it," said the
young girl boldly. "Better for him, a disgraced man of honor, to die
by his own hand, than to be bled like a calf into a feeble and helpless
dissolution. I would, if I were in his place--if I had to do it by
tearing off the bandages."
She made a swift, half unconscious gesture of her little hand, and
stopped, her beautiful eyes sparkling, her thin pink nostrils dilated,
her red lips parted, her round throat lifted in the air, and one small
foot advanced before her. The men glanced hurriedly at each other, and
then fixed their eyes upon her with a rapt yet frightened admiration. To
their simple minds it was Anarchy and Revolution personified, beautiful,
and victorious.
"Ah!" said the secretary to Padre Esteban, in Spanish, "it is true! she
knows not fear! She was in the room alone with the madman; he would let
none approach but her! She took a knife from him--else the medico had
suffered!"
"He recognized her, you see! Ah! they know her power," said the
Comandante, joining the group.
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