CHAPTER ELEVEN.
REFERS TO TWO IMPORTANT LETTERS, AND A SECRET MISSION.
It is a curious coincidence that, about the very time when my servantwas appointed to serve in the Turkish Ambulance Corps, I receivedpermission to act as a surgeon in the Russian army. Through theinfluence of Nicholas Naranovitsch, I was attached to his own regiment,and thus enjoyed the pleasure of his society for a considerable timeafter the breaking out of the war.
I preferred this course to that of returning home, because, first, Icould not bear the thought of leaving the country without making everypossible exertion to ascertain the fate of my yacht's crew, andrendering them succour if possible; and, secondly, because I felt anirresistible desire to alleviate, professionally, the sufferings ofthose who were certain to be wounded during the war. I also experiencedmuch curiosity to know something more of the power and influence ofmodern war-engines. Perhaps some people will think this latter anunworthy motive. It may have been so; I cannot tell. All I can say isthat it was a very secondary one, and would not, of itself, have beensufficient to induce me to remain for an hour to witness the horrors andcarnage of battle-fields. Still, putting the various motives together,I felt justified in remaining.
In order that I might render still more effective service to the causeof humanity, I wrote, immediately after my appointment as surgeon, to anintimate friend, north of the Tweed, offering my services as warcorrespondent to a paper of which he was editor, namely, the _ScottishBawbee_.
That celebrated journal,--well known on the east, west, and north coastsof Scotland, and extensively circulated in the centre and south of thecountry, including England,--is liberal in its principles, conservativein reference only to things that are good, and violently radical whentreating of those that are bad. It enjoys the credit of being curt inits statements, brief in the expression of its opinions, perfectlysilent in reference to its surmises, distinctly repudiative of the giftof prophecy, consistently averse to the attribution of motives,persistently wise in giving the shortest possible account of murders andscandalous cases, and copious in its references to literature, art, andreligious progress, besides being extremely methodical in itsarrangement.
In regard to the latter quality, I cannot refrain from referring to itssensible mode of treating births, marriages, and deaths, by putting theChristian and surname of the born, married, or defunct as the _first_words in each announcement, so that one's digestion at breakfast isaided by reading with some comfort of the joys and sorrows of one'sfriends, instead of having incipient dyspepsia engendered by a painfulsearch for the main facts in confusing sentences.
The editor's reply came by return of post. It contained the acceptanceof my services, and a proposal of extremely liberal terms, allowing me,besides a handsome retaining fee, two horses, and such travellingattendants as might be found necessary. There were also certainemphatic stipulations which are worth recording. I was not, on anypretext whatever, to attempt the divination, much less the revelation,of the future. I was never, upon any consideration, to be seduced intolengthy descriptions of things that I did not see, or minute particularsabout matters which I did not know. I was utterly to ignore, and refuseto be influenced by, personal predilections or prejudices in regard toeither combatant. I was to say as little about scenery as wasconsistent with a correct delineation of the field of war, and never toventure on sentimental allusions to sunsets, moonlights, orwater-reflections of any kind. I was not to forget that a newspaper wasa vehicle for the distribution of news, the announcement of facts andthe discussion thereof, not a medium for the dissemination of fanciesand fiddlededee. Above all, I was never to write a column and a half ofspeculation as to the possible and _probable_ movements of armies; to befollowed "in our next" by two columns of the _rumoured_ movements ofarmies; to be continued "in our next" by two columns and a half of the_actual_ movements of armies; to wind up "in our next" with threecolumns of retrospective consideration as to what might, could, would,or _should_ have been the movements of armies; but that I was, on thecontrary, to bear in remembrance the adage about "brevity" being the"soul of wit," and, when I had nothing to write, to write nothing. Byso doing, it was added, I should please the editor and charm the public,one of whose minor griefs is, as regards newspapers, that it is broughtinto a state of disgust with every event of this life long before it hashappened, and thoroughly nauseated with it long after it is past,--tosay nothing of the resulting mental confusion.
In case any gentleman of the press should feel injured by thesestatements, I must remind him that I am not responsible for them. Theyare the sentiments of the _Scottish Bawbee_, which must be taken forwhat they are worth. It is true, I heartily agree with them, but thatis an entirely different subject, on which I do not enter.
I readily agreed to fall in with the wishes of the editor, andthenceforward devoted myself, heart and soul, to correspondence andsurgery. In both fields of labour I found ample scope for all thepowers of body and mind that I possessed.
Just about this time I received a letter from my dear mother, who wasaware of my plans. It cost me some anxiety, as it was utterlyimpossible that I should comply with the injunctions it contained."Jeffry, my dear boy," she wrote, "let me entreat you, with all thesolemnity of maternal solicitude, to take care of your health. LetRussians and Turks kill and expose themselves as they please, but everbear in remembrance that it is your duty to avoid danger. Whatever youdo, keep your feet dry and your--I need not go further into particulars;medical allusions cannot always be couched in language such as onedesires. Never sleep on damp ground, nor, if possible, without a roofor a covering of some sort over your head. Even a parasol is betterthan nothing. If, despite your precautions, you should catch cold, tiea worsted sock--one of the red and black striped ones I have knitted foryou--round your neck, and take one drop of aconite--only one, remember--before going to bed. I know how, with your allopathic notions, you willsmile at this advice, but I assure you, as your mother, that it willprove an infallible cure. Never sit in a draught when you can avoid it.If you ever come under fire, which I trust you never may, be sure toget behind a house, or a wall, or a stone, if possible; if you cannot doso, get behind a soldier, one larger than yourself would be preferableof course, but if you have not the opportunity of doing this, then turnyour side to the enemy, because in that position you are a much narrowertarget, and more likely to escape their bullets. I need not caution younot to run away. I would rather see you, dear boy, in a prematuregrave, than hear that you had run away. But you _could not_ run away.No Childers ever did so--except from school.
"Let the phial of globules which I gave you at parting be your bosomfriends, till their friendship is required in another and a lowerregion. They are a sovereign remedy against rheumatism, catarrh,bronchitis, dyspepsia, lumbago, nervous affections, headaches, loss ofmemory, debility, monomania, melancholia, botherolia, theoretica, and,in short, all the ills that flesh is heir to, if only taken in time."
It struck me, as I folded my mother's letter and that of the editor,that there never was a man who went into any course of action betterguarded and advised than myself. At the moment when this thoughtoccurred to me, my friend Nicholas burst into my room in a state ofunusual excitement.
"Come, Jeff," he said, "I'm detailed for another secret duty. Peopleseem to have inordinate faith in me, for all my duties are secret! Areyou willing to go with me?"
"Go where?" I asked.
"That I may not tell," he replied; "anywhere, or nowhere, or everywhere.All I can say is, that if you go, it will be to act as surgeon to asquadron of cavalry. I see you have letters. Good news from home--eh?What of Bella?"
"Yes" I replied, "good news and good advice--listen."
I reopened the letters and read them aloud.
"Capital!" exclaimed Nicholas, "just the thing for you. No doubt myexpedition will furnish a column and a half, if not more, ofunquestionable facts for the _Scottish Bawbee_. Get ready, my boy; Istart in half-a
n-hour."
He swung off in the same hearty, reckless manner with which he hadentered; and I immediately set about packing up my surgical instrumentsand note-books, and making other preparations for a journey of unknownextent and duration.
In the Track of the Troops Page 11