"
"Damme," said Castleton, "who says slaughtered?--Have I, a surgeon of
renown, a gentleman and a scholar, a member of the County Society, sunk
so low that I can be called a murderer? Stop--stop where you are--stop
in time. Say to the Gentleman that he has gone too far--say that an
apology is in order--say that he treads the edge of a living crater. I
am dangerous--so my friends say--devilish dangerous"--a smile crossed
the face of Bainbridge; and even so slight and transient an appearance
as a passing smile was not lost on Castleton, though he seemed to be
looking another way--"I mean dangerous on the field of honor. Quackery,
sir, is my abhorrence----"
"Come, come, gentlemen," I said, "you are allowing your professional
_amour propre_ to mislead you. Now," I continued, assuming an air of
_bonhomie_, "it seems to me, an outsider, that this whole difference
might easily be adjusted. Doctor Castleton here advocates firing
twenty-four-pound balls into the patient, and Doctor Bainbridge suggests
peppering the invalid with bird-shot. There is certainly room between
the bowlders for the bird-shot to slip, and the one will not interfere
with the other--I say, give both. Doctor Castleton advises that the dose
be immediately given, whilst Doctor Bainbridge appears to think four or
five hours hence the better time.
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