Kansas agitator. [volume] (Garnett, Kan.) 1890-1905, 1896-08-28


Accident" I heard him say to the
surgeon.
Shot myself-very stupid"
Hush, don't talk" said the surgeon.
Grant said no more. His eyes met
mine for an instant, and their look told
me that II he died, he meant to die
without accusing me. My heart was
too full for me to say word. turned
aside to hide my feelings from the
rough bearers, who once more raised
the PROSTATE form.
Hum" said the surgeon. Every
strange for man to shoot himself in
the right breast. Must be left handed,
suppose"
The risk of carrying Grant up the
hill was too great to be incurred, so by
my instructions he was borne to the
inn. There, on my own bed, was placed
the man whom l had, without one
thought of conjunction, that morning
gone out to kill. Now, an hour later,
I hung over him in speechless agony,
awaiting the result of the surgeons
examination.
Briefly, it was this: The bullet-my
hand, after all, must have swerved--
had entered the right breast, crashing
through the framework of the bones,
and was now lying imbedded under
the shoulder-blade. 1t could be dis
tinctly felt in it's resting-place, and by
and bye could be cut out. 1t was to be
soped that no particle Of clothing had
been carried into the wound.
But would he live-would he ever be
himself again? Undoubtedly. unless
unforeseen complications arose. The
cure would be tedious affair, but he
would be cured.
AS I heard this favorable report. I
could have thrown myself on the sur
geon's neck and wept for joy. If Eus-
tace Grant, when he thought himself
dying, could forgive me and strive to
shield me, felt certain he would for
give me when his recovery became an
assured fact, forgive, and, with his SOL
emn asseveration still echoing through
my mind, l dared to hope, aid me in re-
gaining the woman who had left me
for some reason which was now yelled
in mystery. But thrust this dawning
hope into the background. At present
my one task must be to undo, or to
use every human means to avert the
dire consequences of, my murderous
deed
1 left the room, saw the innkeeper
and his wife, and gave such unlimited
instructions for every care and comfort
procurable, that the good peoples eyes
frightened. No doubt it seemed to
them that prosperous days were dawn
ing on st. Seurin. I ordered messen-
ger to be sent at once to Torrent to re-
quest the attendance Of the best sur
geon the place boosted. l should have
telegraphed to Paris for surgical aid,
but l feared to waste precious time.
Then l settled down to nurse my late
foe as one nurses a brother. / need
not give in detail the account Of
Grants progress toward recovery. I
need not describe the hopes and fears
which shook me each day he seemed a
little better or little worse. The an
guish / felt when fever set inland he
was for while delirious, and, as l be-
lieved on the point Of death-was a
punishment l am fain to think almost
commensurate to my deserts watched
him day and night. Such sleep as l
took was snatched in bed laid at the
foot of his. All the world for me SEEM
ed to be contained in that sick-room.
Even Viola was for the time almost
driven from my thoughts. Until Grant
grew well, l could think of no one but
him.
Everything he took was from my
hands. 1t seemed to me to be part Of
my atonement that l should wait upon
him like slave. Had he turned from
me in disgust-had he by word or ges-
ture shown that the constant presence
of the man who had done his best to
kill him was insupportable, / think l
must have gone mad.
But he suffered me to nurse him;
nay, more, seemed grateful for my aid.
Perhaps it was my devotion and solicit
tude for the sufferer which averted the
suspicion which might well have fallen
upon me. l believe the local surgeon
guessed something of the facts of the
case, but he was discreet man and
said nothing. The people at the inn
were too much delighted with the
windfall to be curious as to how it was
brought to their feet.
AS the local surgeon had predicted,
the case was long and tedious affair.
Four dreary weeks passed before I, for
one, could hope that danger was at an
end. Then, to my indescribable joy,
Eustace Grant began to mend rapidly,
so rapidly that the little surgeon swell
ed with pride, and plumed himself up
on the successful issue brought about
by his treatment.
BY his own request, Grant was NOV
ed to his own house, the farm on the
hill.
In a shamefaced way, I begged that I