On hearing from Cyril
that a servant of some friends of his had been wounded by a robber,
he put some lint and bandages in his pocket, and started with him.
"These robberies are becoming more and more frequent," he said; "and
so bold and reckless are the criminals that they seem to care not a
jot whether they add murder to their other crimes. Where do you say
the wound is?"
Cyril pointed below his own shoulder.
"It is just about there, doctor."
"Then it may be above the upper edge of the lung. If so, we may save
the man. Half an inch higher or lower will make all the difference
between life and death. As you say that it was bleeding freely, it is
probable that the sword has missed the lung, for had it pierced it,
the bleeding would have been chiefly internal, and the hope of saving
him would have been slight indeed."
When they reached the house Cyril found that Mrs. Harvey had quite
recovered. They had cut open the man's clothes and her husband was
pressing a handkerchief, closely folded, upon the wound.
"It is serious, but, I think, not vital," Dr. Hodges said, after
examining it. "I feel sure that the sword has missed the lung."
After cutting off the rest of the man's upper garments, he poured,
from a phial he had brought with him, a few drops of a powerful
styptic into the wound, placed a thick pad of lint over it, and
bandaged it securely. Then, giving directions that a small quantity
of spirits and water should be given to the patient from time to
time, and, above all things, that he should be kept perfectly quiet,
he hurried away.
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