Chapter 10

Father was predictably anxious to get them both on the examination table. Vincent insisted that he examine Catherine first, declaring that his own injury was mostly healed. Stretcher and all, Catherine was placed on the table.

"Well, Catherine, it seems that you had more of an adventure than you ever thought you would." Father smiled down at her as he lifted her injured wrist. "Perhaps you will begin the story of what happened to the two of you, while I finish what I need to do here. …Hm, this wrist appears to have recovered from what happened to it very well. Does this hurt?" He flexed the wrist.

"It’s s little uncomfortable, but nothing like it was."

"Then I think we can count that injury as pretty much past. Sit up now, I’ll look at the cut on your side. Vincent?"

Vincent obliged by turning his back, while Father lifted her undershirt to expose the cut. "Good heavens, Vincent, you didn’t tell me it was so bad. You’ve taken a lot of stitches here to close it."

"I believe eight."

"And Catherine was conscious while you did this?"

"For every stitch. And she never made a sound."

"Catherine, brava! But it is now indeed infected. I think I may have to put a drain in it; otherwise it’ll continue to become more uncomfortable until the antibiotics can reduce the infection. But this time there’ll be a local anesthetic, and you won’t need to be so stoic."

As he worked, he congratulated Vincent on the professional job he’d done in closing the wound. "If you’d had some disinfectant, it would have been a perfect job. What happened to the disinfectant that should have been in your first aid kit?"

"I don’t know, Father. I must have used it and forgotten to replace it. It would have been years ago, I can’t remember the last time I used the kit."

Father turned to peer at Vincent’s back over the top of his glasses. When he replied, his voice was stern. "You will see to it that you replenish that kit with everything required, at the first possible moment. I am astonished at you, Vincent."

Then he turned back to Catherine. "Well, the infection doesn’t seem to be deep. I think a few days on an antibiotic will see you as good as new. Here it is; take it and then you can rest."

As he spoke he handed her the pill and a glass of water. When she had swallowed the medication, he replaced her clothing, and she slid gratefully back down on the stretcher. Now that they were home the anxiety of the trip fell away, and her exhaustion and fever took precedence.

"Thank you, Father."

"Look at this, she’s nearly asleep. I’m going to let her rest before we put in the drain. We’ll see how the wound is in the morning, perhaps it won’t be necessary."

Catherine wasn’t entirely asleep. She raised her head. "Father, could you ask Peter to tell Joe that I’m all right, and I’ll explain when I get back?"

"Go to sleep, Catherine, it’s all taken care of. Peter let Joe know last weekend that you had an emergency and you might not be back for a few days." Father pressed her head back down. "It’s all right. Sleep now."

He called in the rescuers, waiting in the tunnel to make sure that their charges were all right. "Will you boys please just pick her up with the stretcher, and deposit her in the guest bedroom? I don’t think you’ll need a sleeping pill, Catherine." He smiled down at her, and smoothed the hair back from her forehead.

With a drowsy "Thanks", and a warm but sleepy glance and smile at Vincent, who said softly, "Good night, Catherine", she was gone.

"Now, Vincent, if you’ll just get up on this table, we’ll take a look at that leg."

Vincent sat on the table, his legs stretched out, while Father pulled up his pant leg. "Great heavens, Vincent! How on earth did this happen?" As he removed the boot, exclaiming again at the extent of the damage, Vincent explained to him what had happened, and how Catherine had rescued him from his imprisonment.

"You are extraordinarily lucky; you could have lost your leg, but there seems to be no permanent damage. If it had been anyone else, I think they would not have been so fortunate. Your powers of healing are indeed miraculous, Vincent. I can see nothing further that I can do for you; it’s a matter of time until the bruised tissue heals."

"And I may just sleep until that happens; I feel as though I could sleep for a week!" Vincent shuddered as he rose from the table. "I was so frightened, Father, for Catherine. When I found that I was solidly pinned, I thought I might have to send her back alone through the tunnels, and I knew that it would be very, very lucky if she found her way. But she was magnificent. She worked like a navvy to assemble all that was needed to set me free. And then I worried that she had driven herself past the safe edge of exhaustion. She saved us both, Father, at great cost to herself."

He reached for his crutch and started for the door. "We’ll tell you the whole story when we’re both rested. All right?"

"Yes, of course, my son. Go to bed. You too are exhausted."

When Vincent had gone and Father was alone, he sat down heavily. Oh lord, it was a very close thing. He bowed his head over his desk and shed a few difficult tears.

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As it turned out, Catherine didn’t need a drain in the wound after all, the antibiotics seemed to be taking firm hold. When she returned to see Father after fourteen hours of sleep, (“In a comfortable bed!  It was miraculous!”) and a long hot bath, his examination showed a significant reduction in the swelling and redness. 

"Vincent could have been a very fine doctor," Father said, as he admired again his son’s handiwork. "I don’t believe I could have done this as well." As he spoke he handed Catherine a pill and a glass of water.

"Wow, that’s praise indeed. I’ll tell him you said so." Catherine grinned at him as she lifter the glass to her mouth.

Father looked a little disconcerted. "Well, I said it, I can’t deny that. And in truth he deserves it. It’s a very professional job."

"Thank you, Father." Vincent’s voice came from outside the doorway. "May I come in?"

"In just a moment." Father smoothed Catherine’s nightdress back over her shoulder and helped her into the sleeve of her robe. "Now, son."

"Is the patient rested and recovering?" Vincent smiled tenderly down at Catherine.

"The patient slept for fourteen hours!" She smiled back. "She should certainly be rested, and Father says she’s recovering nicely, thank you."

"I didn’t match your record, but I also slept for many hours."

"And you’re walking without the crutch! I was beginning to think it had grown to you. I’m going to miss it."

"Since I don’t have to look forward to a full day of walking, I thought I could dispense with it, before it did indeed grow into me." He stepped back to give her room to descend from the table. "May I escort you back to your chamber, milady?"

"You may, sir." She turned back to Father before they left the room. "Thank you, Father, for your help, and for the help you gave me when I came Below."

"All’s well that ends well. I’m very glad to see you both on your feet, and getting stronger."

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As they approached her chamber, Catherine said, "I think it’s time I got dressed. I don’t want to appear in the dining room in this, and I’m hungry!"

"I believe lunch is still being served. I’ll wait outside for you, and we’ll see if William has anything to eat beside cheese and cracker crumbs."

She giggled. "I’ll be out in a sec."

As they entered the dining chamber, they were besieged by well-wishers. "So glad you’re OK." "We were worried about you." "Gosh, you’re lucky to be here at all." and many more good wishes and expressions of happiness at their return.

"Our thanks to all of you." Vincent spoke to everyone, looking around at the crowd about them. "We came for some lunch. Anything but cheese and crackers, William!"

"But I’ll bet you were glad to have them when you were so far from the dining chamber, weren’t you?" William’s face was bright with laughter.

"We certainly were! William, I promise I’ll never say again that you’ve packed too much." Vincent put his arm around the big cook, hugging him heartily. "You saved us from a very hungry march home!"

"It always pays to have a little bit extra." William smiled complacently. He felt that he had had a large part in getting them home safely.

Catherine could wait no longer. "What’s for lunch, William, I’m starved!"

"Chicken stew, and fresh rolls, and for you Catherine, coffee!"

That reminded Catherine of the coffee discovered at the bottom of her pack. "William, you’ll never know how welcome the little present of coffee that you stowed in my pack was. It probably single-handedly saved my life. I’ll be forever in your debt."

"Oh, you found my little surprise, did you? I thought it might be welcome." He chuckled.

"You’ll never know! I was feeling pretty worn down, and suddenly, I smelled coffee. I thought I was hallucinating!"

"She’s telling the literal truth. She told me she thought it was a delusion." Vincent said.

William laughed heartily. "Well, I guess it was successful, then."

Lunch was eaten to the accompaniment of more good wishes and congratulations on their safe return. After they had eaten their fill, while Catherine was still savoring her coffee, Vincent took advantage of a temporary absence of well-wishers to say, "I think we’ve got some…unfinished business to settle between us, Catherine. Would you care to walk with me to a place where we won’t be disturbed?"

She was astonished, but not so astonished that she would let this opportunity pass. "Lead on. I’ll follow you anywhere."

He looked down at her with smiling eyes. "That’s quite a statement."

"It’s true, though. Anywhere."

His face sobered, and he said in a different, more tender voice. "I hope that neither of us will regret your following me this time."

"I don’t think we will, Vincent."

He took her hand, and they left the dining room that way, hand in hand, causing a murmur of speculation among those left behind.