The search was kept up for some time longer, with no light but an
occasional flash from the skies; but finally abandoned, as we have seen.
Jackson passed several hours most uncomfortably and painfully on his
elevated perch, quaking with fear of both man and reptile, not daring to
come down or to sleep in his precarious position, or able to do so for the
pain of his wound, and growing hour by hour weaker from the bleeding which
it was impossible to check entirely.
Then his mind was in a state of great disturbance, His wound must be
dressed, and that speedily; yet how could it be accomplished without
imperiling life and liberty? Perhaps he had now two new murders on his
hands; he did not know, but he had at least attempted to take life, and
the story would fly on the wings of the wind; such stories always did.
He had been lurking about the neighborhood for days, and had learned that
Dr. Balis, an excellent physician and surgeon, lived on a plantation, some
two or three miles eastward from Viamede. He must contrive a plausible
story, and go to him; at break of day, before the news of the attack on
Viamede would be likely to reach him. It would be a risk, but what better
could be done? He might succeed in quieting the doctor's suspicions, and
yet make good his escape from the vicinity.
Pages:
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173