"
The frock was removed with some difficulty, and then the upper
vestments of my frame, with more difficulty still. The surgeon
felt my arm, moving it up and down, causing me unspeakable pain.
"There is no fracture," said he, at last, "but a contusion--a
violent contusion. I am told you were going to Horncastle; I am
afraid you will be hardly able to ride your horse thither in time
to dispose of him; however, we shall see--your arm must be
bandaged, friend; after which I shall bleed you, and administer a
composing draught."
To be short, the surgeon did as he proposed, and when he had
administered the composing draught, he said, "Be of good cheer; I
should not be surprised if you are yet in time for Horncastle." He
then departed with the master of the house, and the woman, leaving
me to my repose. I soon began to feel drowsy, and was just
composing myself to slumber, lying on my back, as the surgeon had
advised me, when I heard steps ascending the stairs, and in a
moment more the surgeon entered again, followed by the master of
the house. "I hope I don't disturb you," said the former; "my
reason for returning is to relieve your mind from any anxiety with
respect to your horse. I am by no means sure that you will be
able, owing to your accident, to reach Horncastle in time: to
quiet you, however, I will buy your horse for any reasonable sum.
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