Jade Star - Catherine Coulter [39]
“My pleasure. You still treat more syphilis than anything else?”
“Lord yes, it never ends. The poor fellow you just examined, what do you think?”
“You’ve got to take the leg off today or he’ll be dead tomorrow.”
Dwight Baldwin sighed. “That’s what I thought too. Dammit, it was a stupid, needless accident. It happened on the taro plantation, and Elisha Bleecher didn’t bother to bring him in until yesterday evening.”
“Exhort him with hellfire and brimstone tomorrow from the pulpit,” Saint said.
“Won’t do a bit of good, I’m afraid, but you may be certain that I shall. Come, let me walk you out.”
“Have you got ether around?”
“No, but I do have chloroform. Thank God we no longer have to put our patients through such agony. Didn’t you tell me that you were an actual witness to the first use of ether in 1846? At Massachusetts General Hospital, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Saint said, “I was. It started out a circus, with all the other doctors and medical students laughing derisively, and ended in complete and utter silence. I’ll never forget Dr. Warren’s face when he made his first incision. The patient didn’t move, didn’t utter a sound. When it was all over, he turned to the audience and said in the most bewildered voice I’ve ever heard, ‘Gentlemen, this is no humbug.’ ”
“I remember hearing that one doctor walked up to the patient and began slapping him, still unable to believe that he wasn’t faking.”
That hadn’t happened, but it made a good story, so Saint only nodded to Dwight. “Now, if only we can get our colleagues to use ether on women in labor.” Saint knew Dwight Baldwin as a man of infinite compassion and caring for his fellowman, but like many men, religious or otherwise, he believed firmly that it was the scheme of things for a woman to undergo childbirth with nothing to ease her agony.
Today Dwight didn’t take the bait. He was silent for many moments, then said calmly, “I heard about Juliana DuPres.”
“Yes,” Saint said. “I told you about her adventure and mine last evening.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Dwight said, sighing.
“I know. I bet everyone has heard things,” Saint said. “It will pass. She’ll be all right.”
Dwight gave him an incredulous look, but Saint had turned to speak to an old man who used to bring him fresh fish at least three times a week. He’d set the old man’s broken leg and taken the fish as payment. Old Kama had simply never stopped bringing him fish.
Saint and Dwight Baldwin parted some minutes later. Saint made his way to the DuPres house, only to be told by Mrs. DuPres that Juliana had left. Saint thanked her, frowned, and set out to find her. He tracked her to the south of town.
When he heard her screaming wildly, frantically, his guts twisted. “Jules!”
He ran toward the sound, and broke through the bushes that blocked his view. He saw Jules on her back, thrashing and screaming, with John Bleecher on top of her, grinding his pelvis against her as he ripped at her clothes.
His mind went blank with rage. With a loud roar he launched himself upon the younger man.
“You goddamned little bastard!” he yelled, and grabbed John bodily off Jules. He smashed his fist into John’s gaping mouth, and the force of his blow sent the slighter man staggering back.
“You filthy pig,” Saint growled, “I’m going to break your bloody neck!”
Jules managed to pull herself upright. She saw Michael strike John, heard John’s yowl of pain. He would kill him! She saw her brother running toward them, and shouted at the top of her lungs, “Thomas! Help! For God’s sake, hurry!”
It was like trying to halt a train, Thomas thought frantically as he threw himself on Saint’s back. “You’ll kill him, Saint!”
Saint came out of the black, ungoverned rage as quickly as it had initially consumed him. He saw John Bleecher’s bloody nose, heard his moans of pain.
“What the hell is going on?” Thomas demanded.
Saint very slowly straightened, closing his eyes a moment. He said in an emotionless voice, “That little bastard was trying to rape your sister.