'Delenda est causa mali,' the source of evil must be destroyed, as says the learned Ambrose Pare; I ought therefore 'secareferro,'--that is to say, take off the leg.May God grant that he survive the operation!"While seeking his instruments, he looked the supposed brother full in the face, and added--"But how is it that you are carrying muskets in opposing armies, for I see that you belong to us, while this poor fellow wears Spanish uniform?""Oh, that would be a long story to tell," replied the soldier, shaking his head."As for me, I followed the career which was open to me, and took service of my own free will under the banner of our lord king, Henry II.This man, whom you rightly suppose to be my brother, was born in Biscay, and became attached to the household of the Cardinal of Burgos, and afterwards to the cardinal's brother, whom he was obliged to follow to the war.I recognised him on the battle-field just as he fell; I dragged him out of a heap of dead, and brought him here."During his recital this individual's features betrayed considerable agitation, but the surgeon did not heed it.Not finding some necessary instruments, "My colleague," he exclaimed, "must have carried them off.He constantly does this, out of jealousy of my reputation; but I will be even with him yet! Such splendid instruments! They will almost work of themselves, and are capable of imparting some skill even to him, dunce as he is!...I shall be back in an hour or two; he must rest, sleep, have nothing to excite him, nothing to inflame the wound; and when the operation is well over, we shall see! May the Lord be gracious to him!"Then he went to the door, leaving the poor wretch to the care of his supposed brother.
"My God!" he added, shaking his head, "if he survive, it will be by the help of a miracle."Scarcely had he left the room, when the unwounded soldier carefully examined the features of the wounded one.
"Yes," he murmured between his teeth, "they were right in saying that my exact double was to be found in the hostile army....Truly one would not know us apart!...I might be surveying myself in a mirror.I did well to look for him in the rear of the Spanish army, and, thanks to the fellow who rolled him over so conveniently with that arquebus-shot; I was able to escape the dangers of the melee by carrying him out of it.""But that's not all," he thought, still carefully studying the tortured face of the unhappy sufferer; "it is not enough to have got out of that.I have absolutely nothing in the world, no home, no resources.Beggar by birth, adventurer by fortune, I have enlisted, and have consumed my pay; I hoped for plunder, and here we are in full flight! What am I to do? Go and drown myself? No, certainly a cannon-ball would be as good as that.But can't I profit by this chance, and obtain a decent position by turning to my own advantage this curious resemblance, and making some use of this man whom Fate has thrown in my way, and who has but a short time to live?"Arguing thus, he bent over the prostrate man with a cynical laugh:
one might have thought he was Satan watching the departure of a soul too utterly lost to escape him.
"Alas! alas!" cried the sufferer; "may God have mercy on me! I feel my end is near.""Bah! comrade, drive away these dismal thoughts.Your leg pains you --well they will cut it off! Think only of the other one, and trust in Providence!""Water, a drop of water, for Heaven's sake!" The sufferer was in a high fever.The would-be nurse looked round and saw a jug of water, towards which the dying man extended a trembling hand.A truly infernal idea entered his mind.He poured some water into a gourd which hung from his belt, held it to the lips of the wounded man, and then withdrew it.
"Oh! I thirst-that water!...For pity's sake, give me some!""Yes, but on one condition you must tell me your whole history.""Yes...but give me water!"
His tormentor allowed him to swallow a mouthful, then overwhelmed him with questions as to his family, his friends and fortune, and compelled him to answer by keeping before his eyes the water which alone could relieve the fever which devoured him.After this often interrupted interrogation, the sufferer sank back exhausted, and almost insensible.But, not yet satisfied, his companion conceived the idea of reviving him with a few drops of brandy, which quickly brought back the fever, and excited his brain sufficiently to enable him to answer fresh questions.The doses of spirit were doubled several times, at the risk of ending the unhappy man's days then and there: Almost delirious, his head feeling as if on fire, his sufferings gave way to a feverish excitement, which took him back to other places and other times: he began to recall the days of his youth and the country where he lived.But his tongue was still fettered by a kind of reserve: his secret thoughts, the private details of his past life were not yet told, and it seemed as though he might die at any moment.Time was passing, night already coming on, and it occurred to the merciless questioner to profit by the gathering darkness.By a few solemn words he aroused the religious feelings of the sufferer, terrified him by speaking of the punishments of another life and the flames of hell, until to the delirious fancy of the sick man he took the form of a judge who could either deliver him to eternal damnation or open the gates of heaven to him.At length, overwhelmed by a voice which resounded in his ear like that of a minister of God, the dying man laid bare his inmost soul before his tormentor, and made his last confession to him.
