Constance returned with a spoon and, with a few stirs, the mixture was ready. “Help prop his head up, girls. It is very important he drinks all of this.” Mr. Arnold held the cup to Gabriel’s lips. “Remember what I said. Down the hatch, all of it.”
The quinine and wine slowly dribbled into Gabriel’s mouth. As weak as he was, he immediately felt the urge to spew this bitter drink from his mouth. But he sent the mixture to the back of his throat, trying to keep it from touching his tongue, and swallowed until the whole cup was gone.
“Well done, my boy, well done,” exclaimed Mr. Arnold. “A tough one, girls. I give good odds he will recover from the fever if he is able to stomach that much quinine without spilling a drop.” Mr. Arnold looked at Malinda and Constance. “Wherever did this boy come from?”
“We do not know,” responded Malinda. “There was just a knock on the door, and he fell in when I opened it. He had these things with him.” Malinda pointed to Gabriel’s sack and drum, which were placed in the corner.
Mr. Arnold looked at the drum. “I have my guesses, at least, about where this boy is headed and what he wishes to do when he gets there.”
At that moment, the door to the house opened. Malinda and Constance ran to the man standing at the door, himself rather wet, and hugged him.
“Oh, Father, come sit down by the fire. We have so much to tell you.”
The girls’ father stepped inside and said stiffly, “Why, Mr. Benedict Arnold, I didn’t expect to see you here. Is someone sick?”
“Well, yes. Young Constance came to the apothecary and said a boy had come by with a horrible fever and you were gone. She needed me to give him some medicine straight away.”
The girls’ father stepped toward the fire and saw Gabriel in the chair.
“I gave him some quinine. He is a strong lad. Took it all down. He has been toting a drum around. I do not know this for a fact, but I would guess he is a drummer boy, probably trying to join up with the militia gathering around Boston. He must have walked some distance. He certainly has been out in the cold rain for the past couple of days.”
“A drummer boy?” questioned the girls’ father. “Well, God bless the lad. We will do our best to help him recover.”
“I will leave this packet of quinine. Give him two doses a day. The girls saw me mix it. Just do the same as I did, Malinda.”
Constance and Malinda nodded at Benedict Arnold.
Their father stepped to the table and laid down three dead rabbits. “Rabbit stew!” exclaimed Constance. “Can Mr. Arnold stay for dinner, Father?”
Her father looked awkwardly at Constance and then at Arnold, but before he could say anything, Arnold broke the uncomfortable silence. “No, no, thank you, Constance. I have to get back to the store. There is much to get done before my own departure to aid in our fight against the king. I have word from General Israel Putnam that I am to organize our Connecticut men to go to Boston.”
“Maybe if the boy recovers quickly, you can take him with your Connecticut men,” said Malinda.
“That may be, but what if your father wants to keep the boy here to help in the fields this spring? Besides, he is a rather handsome-looking chap, don’t you think?” Arnold gave a wink and a smile to Malinda, which made her blush. “I will consider taking him with me. No doubt that I probably have another week’s worth of preparation and will certainly stop by to check in on the lad before I go.”
With that, Benedict Arnold put on his coat and hat, gave a short bow to the girls, and stepped to the door. “Good evening,” he said as he gently pulled the door shut behind him. The girls’ father turned and looked at them with thoughtful eyes. “There goes a man full of ambition. Ambition which I pray will be used wholeheartedly to fight the redcoats.”
H 8 H
HOPE
Gabriel slowly opened his eyes to a blinding light piercing through the room. Where was he? He remembered pulling himself up along the side of the road, stumbling through the rain, and falling down. He could remember no more.
With his eyes squinting from the brightness, he could tell he was looking out a window with sunshine beaming in through the panes of glass. It was the brightest sunshine he had ever seen, filling the little room where he lay in a small bed covered in thick quilts. He slowly looked around the room. Thick books rested on a bookshelf along one wall. A chair sat next to his bed, with a small wash pan and a towel sitting beside it.
He heard steps. He looked at the door, his senses still trying to awaken. He certainly did not expect a pretty girl with an angelic smile to walk in holding a cup with steam wafting from the top. For a moment, he faintly recognized her.
The girl stopped suddenly when she saw that Gabriel’s eyes were open. “Well, I didn’t expect to see you awake,” she said softly. “You have been stirring quite a bit ever since your fever broke. I went to fetch you some hot broth. It will be much easier to get it down you now that you’re awake.” She paused, giving him a moment to respond, but he remained silent. “What’s the matter? Can’t you talk?”
Gabriel started to say something, but his lips felt like they were glued together. Once he got them separated, his tongue felt like a lead weight in his mouth. He realized that it must have been several days since he had spoken. “Thhhhannk yooouuu,” Gabriel slurred. “Whhhaats yoouuurrr name?”
“Malinda,” replied the girl.
“Hhoww lonng have I been here?” asked Gabriel. The words started to come a little easier now.
“Almost a week.
