in his voice. “I tried to get him to drop it, but he won’t let go.”
I peered through the bars of the lieutenant’s cell in disbelief. As Sommers had said, he was holding a large rodent by its tail.
Lieutenant Shaw shrieked with laughter as the rat struggled to free itself. “Jenkins! Hurry up with that bayonet!” he shouted. “This is a fine fat specimen.”
I grasped the locket that hung around my neck, pity and revulsion vying in my breast. I took a deep breath and gathered my senses. “Unlock the door,” I told Sommers. “And fetch a porter.”
Sommers began to argue. “But Miss Mary, you can’t. I—”
“Do it!” I commanded. “Quickly.”
Sommers turned the key in the lock, then hurried away for help.
As I entered the cell, John caught sight of me. “Have you brought it, Jenkins?” he demanded. “I want to spear the damn thing. We’ll roast it tonight.”
“Lieutenant,” I urged. “Let the rat go. Let it out of the window.”
“What!” he exclaimed. “And waste a perfectly good meal? Are you mad? Hand me your bayonet!”
“I don’t have one,” I explained as calmly as I could. “And I am not Jenkins.”
“Then fetch him!” John shrieked. He cursed until the porter arrived, Sister following close behind him.
“What’s going on here?” Sister demanded. “Porter, restrain this patient and take that vile creature away!”
The porter stalked forward.
Lieutenant Shaw backed into a corner, his eyes fearful at the thought of someone stealing his catch.
“No! Don’t upset him,” I implored. “Please. I can reach him. I know I can.”
Sister’s tone grew impatient. “Miss Shaw, this is no time for games. Leave the lieutenant’s cell this instant.”
I ignored her command and turned my eyes to John. Holding his gaze as best I could, I called to him softly. “Give the creature to me,” I said. “Jenkins will take it away and kill it for us.”
“Can we roast it?” he asked, his eyes lighting up.
“Yes,” I lied.
He looked distrustfully from me to the porter, who nodded. “I’ll take it away and cook it up just how you like it, sir.”
I felt perspiration gather on my brow. The filthy creature in John’s grasp twisted and gnashed its sharp teeth.
Slowly, slowly John held out the struggling rat.
I gingerly lifted it from his fingers and handed it—still dangling it by the tail—to the porter. He carried it from the room, shaking his head.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Sister regarded me for a moment with admiration in her eyes. Then she spoke, more gently this time. “I’m afraid we will still have to restrain him, Miss Seward. He is clearly beyond all sense.”
Her words struck me like a blow. “But why? I can reach him. And he has hurt no one!”
“Mary, he is a danger to himself,” she pointed out. “What if that rat had bitten him? The lieutenant doesn’t need blood poisoning to add to his woes.”
I nodded, fighting back tears. How could I disagree?
As Sommers held John down on the bed Sister strapped one of his wrists to its frame.
“No! No! No!” he yelled. “Do not leave me with Private Smith!”
I tried to soothe him—smiling despite my despair. “Hush now, Lieutenant. We will not leave you.” I bent and, as tenderly as I could, fastened the other strap.
“What is happening?” John asked me, his voice softening, a look of confusion on his fine face. “Please, tell me what is going on?”
“It is just for a while,” I whispered. “Just a short while … ”
10TH
S EPTEMBER 1916
I am relieved to see the soft leather bands only chafe John’s skin a little. Distressing though it is to see him this way, it isalmost more upsetting to see what it does to poor Lily.
When she arrived to visit him yesterday, I warned her as gently as I could. But as I pushed open the door and she saw for herself, she gasped and swayed on her feet. I ushered her from the room so that she might catch her breath.
Tears streamed down her cheeks
I peered through the bars of the lieutenant’s cell in disbelief. As Sommers had said, he was holding a large rodent by its tail.
Lieutenant Shaw shrieked with laughter as the rat struggled to free itself. “Jenkins! Hurry up with that bayonet!” he shouted. “This is a fine fat specimen.”
I grasped the locket that hung around my neck, pity and revulsion vying in my breast. I took a deep breath and gathered my senses. “Unlock the door,” I told Sommers. “And fetch a porter.”
Sommers began to argue. “But Miss Mary, you can’t. I—”
“Do it!” I commanded. “Quickly.”
Sommers turned the key in the lock, then hurried away for help.
As I entered the cell, John caught sight of me. “Have you brought it, Jenkins?” he demanded. “I want to spear the damn thing. We’ll roast it tonight.”
“Lieutenant,” I urged. “Let the rat go. Let it out of the window.”
“What!” he exclaimed. “And waste a perfectly good meal? Are you mad? Hand me your bayonet!”
“I don’t have one,” I explained as calmly as I could. “And I am not Jenkins.”
“Then fetch him!” John shrieked. He cursed until the porter arrived, Sister following close behind him.
“What’s going on here?” Sister demanded. “Porter, restrain this patient and take that vile creature away!”
The porter stalked forward.
Lieutenant Shaw backed into a corner, his eyes fearful at the thought of someone stealing his catch.
“No! Don’t upset him,” I implored. “Please. I can reach him. I know I can.”
Sister’s tone grew impatient. “Miss Shaw, this is no time for games. Leave the lieutenant’s cell this instant.”
I ignored her command and turned my eyes to John. Holding his gaze as best I could, I called to him softly. “Give the creature to me,” I said. “Jenkins will take it away and kill it for us.”
“Can we roast it?” he asked, his eyes lighting up.
“Yes,” I lied.
He looked distrustfully from me to the porter, who nodded. “I’ll take it away and cook it up just how you like it, sir.”
I felt perspiration gather on my brow. The filthy creature in John’s grasp twisted and gnashed its sharp teeth.
Slowly, slowly John held out the struggling rat.
I gingerly lifted it from his fingers and handed it—still dangling it by the tail—to the porter. He carried it from the room, shaking his head.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Sister regarded me for a moment with admiration in her eyes. Then she spoke, more gently this time. “I’m afraid we will still have to restrain him, Miss Seward. He is clearly beyond all sense.”
Her words struck me like a blow. “But why? I can reach him. And he has hurt no one!”
“Mary, he is a danger to himself,” she pointed out. “What if that rat had bitten him? The lieutenant doesn’t need blood poisoning to add to his woes.”
I nodded, fighting back tears. How could I disagree?
As Sommers held John down on the bed Sister strapped one of his wrists to its frame.
“No! No! No!” he yelled. “Do not leave me with Private Smith!”
I tried to soothe him—smiling despite my despair. “Hush now, Lieutenant. We will not leave you.” I bent and, as tenderly as I could, fastened the other strap.
“What is happening?” John asked me, his voice softening, a look of confusion on his fine face. “Please, tell me what is going on?”
“It is just for a while,” I whispered. “Just a short while … ”
10TH
S EPTEMBER 1916
I am relieved to see the soft leather bands only chafe John’s skin a little. Distressing though it is to see him this way, it isalmost more upsetting to see what it does to poor Lily.
When she arrived to visit him yesterday, I warned her as gently as I could. But as I pushed open the door and she saw for herself, she gasped and swayed on her feet. I ushered her from the room so that she might catch her breath.
Tears streamed down her cheeks
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