With this fragrant herb
she made a cooling cataplasm. Having dressed my arm, they placed it
in a sling, then in place of my coat a light Indian _poncho_ was
brought for me to wear.
"I think you are feverish," said Dona Mercedes, feeling my pulse. "We
must send for the doctor--we have a doctor in our little town, a very
skilful man."
"I have little faith in doctors, senora," I said, "but great faith in
women and grapes. If you will give me a cluster from your vine to
refresh my blood I promise to be well very soon."
Dolores laughed lightly and left the room, only to return in a few
minutes with a dish full of ripe, purple clusters. They were delicious,
and did seem to allay the fever I felt, which had probably been caused
as much by angry passions as by the blow I had received.
While I reclined luxuriously, sucking my grapes, the two ladies sat
on each side of me, ostensibly fanning themselves, but only, I think,
trying to make the air cooler for me. Very cool and pleasant they made
it, certainly, but the gentle attentions of Dolores were at the same
time such as might well create a subtler kind of fever in a man's
veins--a malady not to be cured by fruit, fans, or phlebotomy.
"Who would not suffer blows for such compensation as this!" I said.
"Do not say such a thing!" exclaimed the senorita, with wonderful
animation. "Have you not rendered a great service to our dear
General--to our beloved country! If we had it in our power to give you
everything your heart might desire it would be nothing, nothing.
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