The sun looked bright the morning after, to every eye in the village but _Le Fever's_ and his afflicted son's; the hand of death press'd heavy upon his eye-lids, ----and hardly could the wheel at the cistern turn round its circle, --when my uncle _Toby_, who had rose up an hour before his wonted time, entered the lieutenant's room, and without preface or apology, sat himself down upon the chair by the bed-side, and, independently of all modes and customs, opened the curtain in the manner an old friend and brother officer would have done it, and asked him how he did, --how he had rested in the night, --what was his complaint, --where was his pain, --and what he could do to help him: ----and without giving him time to answer any one of the enquiries, went on, and told him of the little plan which he had been concerting with the corporal the night before for him.----
----You shall go home directly, _Le Fever_, said my uncle _Toby_, to my house, --and we'll send for a doctor to see what's the matter, --and we'll have an apothecary, --and the corporal shall be your nurse; ----and I'll be your servant, _Le Fever_.
There was a frankness in my uncle _Toby_, --not the _effect_ of familiarity, --but the _cause_ of it, --which let you at once into his soul, and shewed you the goodness of his nature; to this, there was something in his looks, and voice, and manner, superadded, which eternally beckoned to the unfortunate to come and take shelter under him; so that before my uncle _Toby_ had half finished the kind offers he was making to the father, had the son insensibly pressed up close to his knees, and had taken hold of the breast of his coat, and was pulling it towards him. ----The blood and spirits of _Le Fever_, which were waxing cold and slow within him, and were retreating to their last citadel, the heart--rallied back, --the film forsook his eyes for a moment, --he looked up wishfully in my uncle _Toby's_ face, --then cast a look upon his boy, ----and that _ligament_, fine as it was, --was never broken.------
Nature instantly ebb'd again, --the film returned to its place, ----the pulse fluttered----stopp'd----went on----throbb'd----stopp'd again----moved----stopp'd----shall I go on? ----No.
The sun looked bright the morning after, to every eye in the village but Le Fever's; the hand of death pressed heavy upon his eye-lids. My uncle Toby entered the lieutenant's room, and without preface or apology sat down upon the chair by the bed-side, opened the curtain in the manner of an old friend and brother officer, and asked him how he did, - how he had rested, - where was his pain, - what he could do to help him: and without giving him time to answer any of the enquiries, went on, and told him of the little plan which he had made.
'You shall go to my house, Le Fever,' said my uncle Toby, 'and we'll send for a doctor, and an apothecary; and the corporal shall be your nurse - and I'll be your servant, Le Fever.'
There was a frankness in my uncle Toby - not the effect of familiarity, but the cause of it - which let you at once into his soul, and showed you the goodness of his nature. Additionally, there was something in his looks, and voice, and manner, which beckoned to the unfortunate to come and take shelter under him; so that before my uncle Toby had half finished his kind offers to the father, the son had pressed up close to him, and had taken hold of his coat.
The blood and spirits of Le Fever, which were growing cold and slow within him, and were retreating to their last citadel, the heart, rallied back. The film left his eyes for a moment: he looked up wishfully in my uncle Toby's face, then at his boy; and that look was never broken.
Nature instantly ebbed again, - the film returned - the pulse fluttered - stopped - went on - stopped again - moved - stopped - shall I go on? No.