change. The inflammation had greatly subsided,
while the discoloration had retired to the immediate
vicinity of the wound, which in its turn however had
assumed a more virulent appearance. From this
it was evident that the suction had been the means
of recalling, to the neighbourhood of the injury,
such portions of the poison as had expanded, concentrating
all in one mass immediately beneath its surface, and
thereby affording fuller exposure to the action of
the final remedy. This consisting of certain
herbs of a dark colour, and spread at her direction
by the trembling hands of Gertrude, on her white handkerchief—Miss
Montgomerie now proceeded to apply, covering a considerable
portion around the orifice of the two small wounds,
inflicted by the fangs of the serpent, with the dense
mass of the vegetable preparation. The relief
produced by this was effectual, and in less than an
hour, so completely had the poison been extracted,
and the strength of the arm restored, that Gerald
was enabled not merely to resume his shooting jacket,
but to partake, although sparingly, of the meal which
followed.
It may be presumed that the bold action of Miss Montgomerie
passed not without the applause it so highly merited,
yet even while applauding, there were some of the party,
and particularly Henry Grantham, who regarded it with
feelings not wholly untinctured with the unpleasant.
Her countenance and figure, as she stood in the midst
of the forest, preparing the embrocation, so well
harmonizing with the scene and occupation; the avidity
with which she sucked the open wound of the sufferer,
and the fearless manner in which she imbibed that
which was considered death to others; all this, combined
with a general demeanour in which predominated a reserve
deeply shaded with mystery, threw over the actor and
the action, an air of the preternatural, occasioning
more of surprise and awe than prepossession.
Such, especially, as we have said, was the impression
momentarily, produced on Henry Grantham; but when
he beheld his brother’s eye and cheek once more
beaming with returning strength and health, he saw
in her but the generous preserver of that brother’s
life to whom his own boundless debt of gratitude was
due. It was at this moment that, in the course
of conversation on the subject, Captain Molineux inquired
of Miss Montgomerie, what antidote she possessed against
the influence of the poison. Every eye was turned
upon her as she vaguely answered, a smile of peculiar
meaning playing over her lips, that “Captain
Molineux must be satisfied with knowing she bore a
charmed life.” Then again it was that the
young soldier’s feelings underwent another reaction,
and as he caught the words and look which accompanied
them, he scarcely could persuade himself she was not
the almost vampire and sorceress that his excited
imagination had represented.