Levi Bedford, in spite of his threats to hang his prisoner, was a kind-hearted man, and he did what he could for the comfort of Buck Lagger. He had often been called upon to prescribe for the sick or injured among the hands on the plantation. He examined the wound of the ruffian; but it was beyond his skill, and he did not attempt to treat the patient.
During the absence of the expedition for the defence of Lyndhall he had done what he could for those who had been wounded on the creek road; but he was not an expert in the treatment of gunshot wounds. There was little he could do for them; and early in the morning he had sent Frank to procure the attendance of Dr. Falkirk, who resided near the village. He had been called to a case on a plantation several miles from Barcreek. He had not returned when Levi went to his bed.
Major Lyon and the boys had taken to their beds as soon as the guests departed, and the overseer was in condition to follow their example. The premises were well guarded along the creek, and two men with breech-loaders in their hands were in charge of the wounded prisoner. In the mansion Mrs. Lyon and her daughters, who had been up most of the night, for they could not sleep while the major and his sons were in danger, had gone to bed to obtain needed rest.
Even the hands who had been on service the whole or a part of the eventful night were asleep, and the guard at Fort Bedford had been relieved. Levi slept soundly on the bed he had taken within the works, in spite of the groans mingled with curses of the wounded ruffian. There was no white person awake on the plantation to wonder what was to be the outcome of the events of the night. Doubtless Colonel Cosgrove and Squire Truman were also sleeping off the fatigues of the night. The aggressive ruffians had fled to their several homes, defeated, exhausted, and disgusted with the result of their labors in the cause of Secession. There was a calm after the storm.
Dr. Falkirk appeared about the middle of the forenoon. He was of Scotch descent; but his father had settled in New Orleans, and the son became as violent a "fire-eater" as though he had been the possessor of half a thousand slaves. He had made a fortune in the practice of his profession, and had purchased a plantation in Kentucky, on the outskirts of Barcreek, where he intended to end his days in peace and quiet. But some of his investments had been unfortunate, and he had been compelled to resume practice.