to
justify his pretensions, now entered the room, carrying his case of
instruments, and followed by servants bearing basins and water and
bandages of linen. He relieved our doubts by instantly assuring us
that 'the patient' was still living; and at the same time professed his
determination to take advantage of the muscular relaxation which the
faint had induced to examine the wound--adding that a patient was more
easily 'handled' when in a swoon than under other circumstances.

After examining the wound in front where the ball had entered, he passed
his hand round beneath the shoulder, and after a little pause he shook
his head, observing that he feared very much that one of the vertebrae
was fatally injured, but that he could not say decidedly until his
patient should revive a little. 'Though his language was very technical,
and consequently to me nearly unintelligible, I could perceive plainly
by his manner that he considered the case as almost hopeless.

O'Connor gradually gave some signs of returning animation, and at length
was so far restored as to be enabled to speak. After some few general
questions as to how he felt affected, etc., etc., the surgeon, placing
his hand upon his leg and pressing it slightly, asked him if he felt any
pressure upon the limb? O'Connor answered in the negative--he pressed
harder, and repeated the question; still the answer was the same, till
at length, by repeated experiments, he ascertained that all that part
of the body which lay behind the wound was paralysed, proving that the
spine must have received some fatal injury.

'Well, doctor,' said O'Connor, after the examination of the wound was
over; 'well, I shall do, shan't I?'

The physician was silent for a moment, and then, as if with an effort,
he replied:

'Indeed, my dear sir, it would not be honest to flatter you with much
hope.'

'Eh?' said O'Connor with more alacrity than I had seen him exhibit
since the morning; 'surely I did not hear you aright; I spoke of my
recovery--surely there is no doubt; there can be none--speak frankly,
doctor, for God's sake--am I dying?'

The surgeon was evidently no stoic, and his manner had extinguished in
me every hope, even before he had uttered a word in reply.

'You are--you are indeed dying. There is no hope; I should but deceive
you if I held out any.'

As the surgeon uttered these terrible words, the hands which O'Connor
had stretched towards him while awaiting his reply fell