Don't tell me how you do it; but do it. I must write and tell
poor Lucy I have got him, and am bringing him home to her--dead."
The surgeon was gone about a quarter of an hour; he then returned with
two men to remove the body, and found the captain still writing his
letter, very sorrowful: but now and then slapping his face or leg with a
hearty curse as the flies stung him.
The surgeon beckoned the men in softly, and pointed to the body for them
to carry it out.
Now, as he pointed, his eye, following his finger, fell on something that
struck that experienced eye as incredible: he uttered an exclamation of
astonishment so loud that the captain looked up directly from his letter;
and saw him standing with his finger pointing at the corpse, and his eyes
staring astonishment "What now?" said the captain, and rose from his seat
"Look! look! look!"
The captain came and looked, and said he saw nothing at all.
"The fly; the fly!" cried the surgeon.
"Yes, I see one of them has been biting him; for there's a little blood
trickling. Poor fellow."
"A dead man can't bleed from the small veins in his skin," said the man
of art.
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