Among strangers Margaret Brandt was comparatively happy.And soon a new and unexpected cause of content arose.A civic dignitary being ill, and fanciful in proportion, went from doctor to doctor;and having arrived at death's door, sent for Peter.Peter found him bled and purged to nothing.He flung a battalion of bottles out of window, and left it open; beat up yolks of eggs in neat Schiedam, and administered it in small doses; followed this up by meat stewed in red wine and water, shredding into both mild febrifugal herbs, that did no harm.Finally, his patient got about again, looking something between a man and a pillow-case, and being a voluble dignitary, spread Peter's fame in every street;and that artist, who had long merited a reputation in vain, made one rapidly by luck.Things looked bright.The old man's pride was cheered at last, and his purse began to fill.He spent much of his gain, however, in sovereign herbs and choice drugs, and would have so invested them all, but Margaret white-mailed a part.The victory came too late.Its happy excitement was fatal.
One evening, in bidding her good-night, his voice seemed rather inarticulate.
The next morning he was found speechless, and only just sensible.
Margaret, who had been for years her father's attentive pupil,saw at once that he had had a paralytic stroke.But not trusting to herself, she ran for a doctor.One of those who, obstructed by Peter, had not killed the civic dignitary, came, and cheerfully confirmed her views.He was for bleeding the patient.She declined."He was always against blooding," said she, "especially the old." Peter lived, but was never the same man again.His memory became much affected, and of course he was not to be trusted to prescribe; and several patients had come, and one or two, that were bent on being cured by the new doctor and no other, awaited his convalescence.Misery stared her in the face.She resolved to go for advice and comfort to her cousin William Johnson, from whom she had hitherto kept aloof out of pride and poverty.She found him and his servant sitting in the same room, and neither of them the better for liquor.Mastering all signs of surprise, she gave her greetings, and presently told him she had come to talk on a family matter, and with this glanced quietly at the servant by way of hint.The woman took it, but not as expected.
"Oh, you can speak before me, can she not, my old man?"At this familiarity Margaret turned very red, and said -"I cry you mercy, mistress.I knew not my cousin had fallen into the custom of this town.Well, I must take a fitter opportunity;"and she rose to go.
"I wot not what ye mean by custom o' the town," said the woman, bouncing up."But this I know; 'tis the part of a faithful servant to keep her master from being preyed on by his beggarly kin."Margaret retorted: "Ye are too modest, mistress.Ye are no servant.Your speech betrays you.'Tis not till the ape hath mounted the tree that she, shows her tail so plain.Nay, there sits the servant; God help him! And while so it is, fear not thou his kin will ever be so poor in spirit as come where the likes of you can flout their dole." And casting one look of mute reproach at her cousin for being so little of a man as to sit passive and silent all this time, she turned and went haughtily out; nor would she shed a single tear till she got home and thought of it.And now here were two men to be lodged and fed by one pregnant girl;and another mouth coming into the world.
But this last, though the most helpless of all, was their best friend.
Nature was strong in Margaret Brandt; that same nature which makes the brutes, the birds, and the insects, so cunning at providing food and shelter for their progeny yet to come.
Stimulated by nature she sat and brooded, and brooded, and thought, and thought, how to be beforehand with destitution.Ay, though she had still five gold pieces left, she saw starvation coming with inevitable foot.
Her ***, when, deviating from custom, it thinks with male intensity, thinks just as much to the purpose as we do.She rose, bade Martin move Peter to another room, made her own very neat and clean, polished the glass globe, and suspended it from the ceiling, dusted the crocodile and nailed him to the outside wall;and after duly instructing Martin, set him to play the lounging sentinel about the street door, and tell the crocodile-bitten that a great, and aged, and learned alchymist abode there, who in his moments of recreation would sometimes amuse himself by curing mortal diseases.
Patients soon came, and were received by Margaret, and demanded to see the leech."That might not be.He was deep in his studies, searching for the grand elixir, and not princes could have speech of him.They must tell her their symptoms, and return in two hours." And oh! mysterious powers! when they did return, the drug or draught was always ready for them.Sometimes, when it was a worshipful patient, she would carefully scan his face, and feeling both pulse and skin, as well as hearing his story, would go softly with it to Peter's room; and there think and ask herself how her father, whose system she had long quietly observed, would have treated the case.Then she would write an illegible scrawl with a cabalistic letter, and bring it down reverently, and show it the patient, and "Could he read that?" Then it would be either, "I am no reader," or, with admiration, "Nay, mistress, nought can I make on't.""Ay, but I can.'Tis sovereign.Look on thyself as cured!" If she had the materials by her, and she was too good an economist not to favour somewhat those medicines she had in her own stock, she would sometimes let the patient see her compound it, often and anxiously consulting the sacred prescription lest great Science should suffer in her hands.And so she would send them away relieved of cash, but with their pockets full of medicine, and minds full of faith, and humbugged to their hearts' content.
