But these
changes brought no difference into the home, save that George
Mansion's arm grew stronger daily in combat against the old foe.
Then came the second attack of the enemy, when six white men beset
him from behind, again knocking him insensible, with a heavy blue
beech hand-spike. They broke his hand and three ribs, knocked out
his teeth, injured his side and head; then seizing his pistol, shot
at him, the ball fortunately not reaching a vital spot. As his
senses swam he felt them drag his poor maimed body into the middle
of the road, so it would appear as if horses had trampled him, then
he heard them say, "_This_ time the devil is dead." But hours
afterwards he again arose, again walked home, five interminable
miles, again greeted his ever watchful and anxious wife with,
"Lydia, they've hurt me once more." Then came weeks of renewed
suffering, of renewed care and nursing, of renewed vitality, and
at last of conquered health.
These two terrible illnesses seemed to raise Lydia into a peculiar,
half-protecting attitude towards him. In many ways she "mothered"
him almost as though he were her son--he who had always been the
leader, and so strong and self-reliant. After this, when he went
forth on his crusades, she watched his going with the haunting fear
with which one would watch a child wandering on the edge of a
chasm.
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