THE "Surgeon's Daughter" was published in 1827, in the second series of the "Chronicles of the Canongate." The first plate represents Julia de Moncada and her father. "Follow me, gentlemen," said Gideon, "and you shall see the young lady." And then, his strong features working with emotion at anticipation of the distress which he was about to inflict, he led the way up the small staircase, and, opening the door, said to Moncada, who had followed him—"This is your daughter's only place of refuge, in which I am, alas! too weak to be her protector. Enter, sir, if your conscience will permit you." The stranger turned on him a scowl, into which it seemed as if he would willingly have thrown the power of the fabled basilisk. Then stepping proudly forward, he stalked into the room. He was followed by Lawford and Gray, at a little distance. The messenger remained in the doorway. The unhappy young woman heard the disturbance, and guessed the cause too truly. It is possible she might have seen the strangers on their descent from the carriage. When they entered the room, she was on her knees beside an easy-chair. Moncada uttered a single word, but none knew its import. The female gave a convulsive shudder, such as that by which a half-dying soldier is affected in receiving a second wound.
With his wonted humour, Mr Cruikshank has sketched Dr Gideon Gray and the wives of Middlemas. Gideon Gray, surgeon at Middle-mas, was a plain, blunt, middle-aged man, with a touch of cynicism about him. Late of an autumn evening, three old women raced towards his door, accompanied by some idle young fellows, who were loudly betting on the winner. "Half-a-mutchkin on Luckie Simson." "Auld Peg Tamson against the field." "Mair speed, Alison Jaup, ye'll tak' the wind out of them yet." "Canny against the hill, lassies, or we may ha'e a burstin' auld carline amang ye." These, and a thousand such gibes, rent the air, without being noticed by the anxious racers, whose object of contention seemed to be which should first reach the doctor's door. Mr Gray, who had just dismounted from a long journey, hastened downstairs, auguring some new occasion for his services. He had just reached the door as Luckie Simson, one of the racers, arrived in the little area before it. She stood, blowing like a grampus, her loose toy flying back from her face, making the most violent efforts to speak, but without the power of uttering a word. Peg Tamson whipped in before her-"The leddy, sir; the leddy!" "Instant help! instant help!" screeched, rather than uttered, Alison Jaup; while Luckie Simson, who had certainly won the race, found words to claim the prize which had set them all in motion-"And I hope, sir, you will recommend me to be the sick-nurse; I was here to bring you the tidings long before ony o' thae lazy queans."
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