The Decoder - Chapter 15

“We are riding to town this afternoon.  Would you care to join us?” inquired Georgiana.

“My sister offers her assistance at the local hospital,” Darcy added.  “You may join her if you wish.”  Amy and Lucy declined quickly, but after exchanging a glance, Wayne and I agreed.  We were the only riders of the group, me being brought up on a farm and Wayne having taken lessons.  It was essential to show them that we could ride.  If we didn’t, our identities would even more be called into question.

I changed thankfully into pants and a loose blouse.  The horses were outside, close to the palatial stables.  A groom held each by the bridle.  Darcy had already mounted, his cool manner and formal attire unruffled by the breeze.

“The white mare is yours,” Georgiana said to Wayne.  “And Esme, you may ride the bay stallion.  He is very gentle.  I shall take the chestnut, and my brother is, of course, riding the gray.”

I led my horse to the mounting block.  As I was about to mount, I noticed the saddle.  I had never ridden side-saddle before.  Wayne drew his horse near.

“I’m not riding with that,” I hissed from behind the protection of my horse’s flank.  “Not with a side-saddle.”

“Get over yourself.  It’s just a question of balance,” he retorted.

“You can talk!  Yours is normal!  Care to swap?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Before he could stop me, I unbuckled the girth and the saddle fell off.  A groom picked it up hurriedly.  Darcy and Georgiana stared.

“Now you’ve done it,” Wayne hissed.  I ignored him.

“I shall ride bareback,” I declared.  To complete the impression, I kicked off my shoes and started to run, throwing the reins over the startled stallion’s ears.  Shooting a rebellious glance at Wayne, I vaulted onto the horse, farmyard style, and cantered once around the courtyard.

“Shall we ride?” I asked as soon as Wayne had mounted stiffly, radiating propriety and disapproval.

Georgiana gave an embarrassed smile.  We set off towards Brighton.  The road was good in the light of the times.  Wayne drew level with me.

“You nearly exposed us entirely with that little show.”

“It was worth it.”  I spurred my stallion on and occupied the full centre of the road, blocking Wayne off from my side.

I heard Georgiana whispering, “She rides like a man!” but ignored her.  Darcy was obviously also intrigued.  “I imagine that you have some experience in riding horses?” he said doubtfully.

“Yes, I grew up with horses,” I replied.  “My father was a farmer—a gentleman farmer.”  Before my mother left him, taking me with her.

“I see.”

“I know you don’t consider riding like this proper,” I said impatiently, “but riding side-saddle is much harder than astride.  It is also bad for a lady’s back, and for the horse.  You should try riding side-saddle once, sir.  I assure you that you will fall off within the first minute.”

Wayne intervened.  “Why don’t you—”

He was interrupted by a terrific neighing.  Georgiana’s horse capered backwards, knocking into Darcy’s and sending it galloping off in the opposite direction.  I spotted the source of the disturbance—a dog was yapping around the horse’s hooves.  The creature started to rear, Georgiana barely holding on.  Wayne shook off his stirrups, but I was faster.  I vaulted off and, stumbling slightly, slapped the horse’s chest to bring him down to the ground.  Before he could start bucking, I pulled down the reins and drew him into a tight circle.  Wayne reached down and scooped up the little terrier, clamping a hand around its muzzle.  Darcy struggled to control his own prancing mount as I pulled down on the bridle.  The horses finally calmed down and Georgiana was able to retake the reins.  I remounted and Wayne coughed.

“What do I do with this?” he asked, holding up the dog.

“Put it over the fence,” Darcy replied.  “And I thank you for your assistance.”

“No sweat,” I grinned, then caught Wayne’s eye.  “I mean no trouble, sir.”

We continued down the road.  It was not long before we entered the village of Lambton.  The clinic was just left of the main road and we hitched our horses at a water trough.

“I have some business down at Carston’s,” Darcy told his sister.  “It will only take twenty minutes.”

We entered the hospital with its peeling paint and tarnished bronze knockers and a nurse greeted us.

“Miss Darcy!  You have brought some friends!”

“Yes, Miss Grecia.  Allow me to introduce Mr—”

“Grenville and Miss Lebowitz,” Wayne finished.

“Mr Grenville knows some things about medicine,” Georgiana smiled.

“Very well then, you know what to do, ma’am,” Miss Grecia replied.

I couldn’t help staring at the beds with the drawn curtains as we hurried past the rows of patients.

“We usually help out in the convalescence chambers,” Georgiana informed us as we walked.  “They’re not quite as bad there.”

Before us there was a small group of physicians gathered around one bed.  Wayne zeroed in on them.

“What has happened?” he asked.

“Heart failure,” a physician murmured.  “I am afraid there is nothing to be done.”

Wayne pushed through the crowd of doctors and laid a finger on the man’s neck.

“No pulse,” he muttered

“He is dead, young man,” a physician snapped.

“Not before I’ve finished with him, no,” Wayne growled.  He rolled the patient onto the floor, trailing sheets.

“What are you doing?” a doctor tried to stop him.

Wayne ignored him and pushed the patient’s jaw back.  He took a deep breath and forced the air into the man’s lungs, twice.  Then he moved to the chest and did the thirty compressions, counting out loud.  He checked the pulse and repeated the actions.

“CPR,” I said by way of explanation.

“CPR?”

“CPR stands for... um...  I don’t know, but when he pushes down, it works like a heart beating.  He might be able to restart the man’s real heart, that way.”

The men exchanged looks.  I waited.  Wayne checked the pulse again.

“There’s a pulse,” he declared.  “He’s alive.”  After watching the man’s chest for a few seconds, he told us that he was breathing well.

I allowed him a small smile as we continued down the isle and the physicians struggled to lift the man back onto the bed.

“Did you just a bring a man back from the dead?” Georgiana asked.

“No, he was not quite dead yet.  I simply restarted his heart.”

“What are we to do?” I asked.

“Why don’t you talk to the patients?  I need to look at something on the schedule.”

The first physician Wayne had talked to came bustling toward us.  He was a stout little man with beetle eyes and a salt-and-pepper whiskeryness about the face.

“That, my dear sir,” he huffed, “was something that I have never seen before.  Where did you acquire your medical knowledge, may I ask?”

Wayne cleared his throat.  “Um, I—”  I stamped on his foot and he made an attempt.  “I have an uncle..”

“His uncle is highly qualified and is developing a new branch of medicine.  He is calling it—um—First Aide.”

Wayne rallied round.  “Yes, it is all about saving lives using simple and efficient techniques.  The first few hours after an injury are so important.”

The two chatted on quite happily about medical matters.  I was left in the ward with nothing to do but follow Georgiana’s advice.  Talk to a patient.  I looked around.  Two men, asleep, a girl with a bulging belly and an old crone who was having trouble breathing.  I made my pick and approached the latter with slow, soft footfalls.  There was a wooden stool beside her bed and I took it.  The creaking noise made her look turn toward me.  Her eyes were clear and bright in her shriveled face.

“Don’t waste your time, girl,” the woman rasped.  “It’s almost over for me.  That man knows it as well as I do.”  Her eyes flicked to where the physician was speaking animatedly to Wayne.

“Why?  What is the matter?”

“It’s my lungs, he says.  Cancer of the lungs.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be.  I’ve had a long, good life.  And I told you not to waste your time.  Why are you still sitting here?”

There were brisk footsteps and Georgiana entered.

“Mrs Johnson!” she smiled.  “I hope that syrup of ipecacuanha did some good?”

“Better than ever, miss Darcy,” the lady gargled.  “Cough’s almost gone, just waiting for the last wheeze to pass, then I’m out of here!”

“Come along, Esme!  We are to help with the children in the next ward.”

I hurried to keep up.  “What is wrong with that lady?”

“She had a case of Spanish influenza.  She’s on the mend.”

“She told me she has cancer!”

“Oh, she sometimes does that.  It happened to me, too.”

We entered the ward and I spotted a round object in a bowl.

“What’s the onion for?”

“It draws the infection out of the air.”

“It does?”

“Of course.  Everyone knows that.”

Georgiana sat down on a bed and started to talk to the little girl under the sheets.  Wayne and the physician strolled in, still conversing actively.  He introduced the man to me.

“Esme, allow me to introduce mister Gartner.  Mister Gartner, this is Esme Lebowitz.  Mister Gartner has suggested that we stay with him for a few days so that we can exchange ideas.  He would also like to meet Amy and discuss First Aide with her.”

“That is a capital idea!” Georgiana cried.  “Thank goodness you have found a permanent place to stay!”  At that moment, Darcy entered and the situation was explained to him.  I fingered the decoder in my pocket guiltily.  I still had to find a way to get rid of Bouvier and get us out of this whole mess.

“You must still come and visit,” Georgiana said.  “Colonel Fitzwilliam wishes to meet you.  He will be dreadfully disappointed to hear of your departure.”

We rode back to Pemberley in high spirits.  Georgiana was happy that we had found permanent lodgings, Darcy was happy because the strangers would be out of his house, and Wayne and I were happy because it was getting slightly uncomfortable in the large manor, and I for one was sure that Bouvier would be getting up to her tricks again.