by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER XVII
SMITTEN DOWN
Two days later, Cyril started at his usual hour to go to Dr. Hodges';but he had proceeded but a few yards when a man, who was leaningagainst the wall, suddenly lurched forward and caught him round theneck. Thinking that the fellow had been drinking, Cyril angrily triedto shake him off. As he did so the man's hat, which had been presseddown over his eyes, fell off, and, to his astonishment, Cyrilrecognised John Harvey.
"You villain! What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, as he freedhimself from the embrace, sending his assailant staggering backagainst the wall.
The man's face lit up with a look of savage exultation..
"I told you you should hear from me again," he said, "and I have keptmy word. I knew the hour you went out, and I have been waiting foryou. You are a doomed man. I have the Plague, and I have breathed inyour face. Before twenty-four hours have passed you will be, as I am,a dying man. That is a good piece of vengeance. You may be a betterswordsman than I am, but you can't fight with the Plague."
Cyril drew back in horror. As he did so, a change came over JohnHarvey's face, he muttered a few words incoherently, swayed backwardsand forwards, and then slid to the ground in a heap. A rush of bloodpoured from his mouth, and he fell over dead.
Cyril had seen more than one similar death in the streets, but thehorrible malignity of this man, and his sudden death, gave him aterrible shock. He felt for the moment completely unmanned, and,conscious that he was too unhinged for work, he turned and went backto the house.
"You look pale, lad," John Wilkes said, as Cyril went upstairs. "Whatbrings you back so soon?"
"I have had rather a shock, John." And he told him of what hadhappened.
"That was enough to startle you, lad. I should say the best thing youcould do would be to take a good strong tumbler of grog, and then laydown."
"That I will do, and will take a dose of the medicine Dr. Hodgesmakes everyone take when the infection first shows itself in a house.As you know, I have never had any fear of the Plague hitherto. Idon't say that I am afraid of it now, but I have run a far greaterrisk of catching it than I have ever done before, for until now Ihave never been in actual contact with anyone with the disease."
After a sleep Cyril rose, and feeling himself again, went to callupon Mr. Wallace.
"I shall not come again for a few days," he said, after telling himwhat had happened, but without mentioning the name of John Harvey,"but I will send you a note every other day by John Wilkes. If hedoes not come, you will know that I have taken the malady, and inthat case, Mr. Wallace, I know that I shall have your prayers for myrecovery. I am sure that I shall be well cared for by John Wilkes."
"Of my prayers you maybe sure, Cyril; and, indeed, I have every faiththat, should you catch the malady, you will recover from it. You haveneither well-nigh frightened yourself to death, nor have you dosedyourself with drugs until nature was exhausted before the strugglebegan. You will, I am sure, be calm and composed, and above all youhave faith in God, and the knowledge that you have done your part tocarry out His orders, and to visit the sick and aid those in sorrow."
The next day Cyril was conscious of no change except that he felt adisinclination to exert himself. The next morning he had a feeling ofnausea.
"I think that I am in for it, John," he said. "But at any rate it cando no harm to try that remedy you spoke of that is used in the East.First of all, let us fumigate the room. As far as I have seen, thesmoke of tobacco is the best preservative against the Plague. Now doyou, John, keep a bit of tobacco in your mouth."
"That I mostly do, lad."
"Well, keep a bigger bit than usual, John, and smoke steadily. Still,that will not be enough. Keep the fire burning, and an iron plateheated to redness over it. Bring that into my room from time to time,and burn tobacco on it. Keep the room full of smoke."
"I will do that," John said, "but you must not have too much of it. Iam an old hand, and have many times sat in a fo'castle so full ofsmoke that one could scarce see one's hands, but you are notaccustomed to it, and it may like enough make you sick."
"There will be no harm in that, John, so that one does not push ittoo far. Now, how are you going to set about this sweating process?"
"While you undress and get into bed I will get a blanket ready. It isto be dipped in boiling water, and then wrung out until it is as dryas we can get it. Then you are wrapped in that, and then rolled infive or six dry blankets to keep in the heat. You will keep in thatuntil you feel almost weak with sweating; then I take you out andsponge you with warmish water, and then wrap you in another dryblanket."
"You had better sponge me with vinegar, John."
Cyril undressed. When he had done so he carefully examined himself,and his eye soon fell on a black spot on the inside of his leg, justabove the knee. It was the well-known sign of the Plague.
"I have got it, John," he said, when the latter entered with a pileof blankets.
"Well, then, we have got to fight it, Master Cyril, and we will beatit if it is to be beaten. Now, lad, for the hot blanket."
"Lay it down on the bed, and I will wrap myself in it, and the samewith the others. Now I warn you, you are not to come nearer to methan you can help, and above all you are not to lean over me. If youdo, I will turn you out of the room and lock the door, and fight itout by myself. Now puff away at that pipe, and the moment you wrap meup get the room full of smoke."
John nodded.
"Don't you bother about me," he growled. "I reckon the Plague ain'tgoing to touch such a tough old bit of seasoned mahogany as I am.Still, I will do as you tell me."
In a few minutes Cyril was in a profuse perspiration, in which evenhis head, which was above the blankets, shared.
"That is grand," John said complacently.
The cloud of tobacco, with which the room was soon filled, was notlong in having the effect that John had predicted, and Cyril was soonviolently sick, which had the effect of further increasing theperspiration.
"You must open the window and let the smoke out a bit, John," hegasped. "I can't stand any more of it."
This was done, and for another hour Cyril lay between the blankets.
"I shall faint if I lie here any longer," he said at last. "Now,John, do you go out of the room, and don't come back again until Icall you. I see you have put the vinegar handy. It is certain that ifthis is doing me any good the blankets will be infected. You say youhave got a big fire in the kitchen. Well, I shall take them myself,and hang them up in front of it, and you are not to go into the roomtill they are perfectly dry again. You had better light another fireat once in the parlour, and you can do any cooking there. I will keepthe kitchen for my blankets."
John nodded and left the room, and Cyril at once proceeded to unrollthe blankets. As he came to the last he was conscious of a strongfetid odour, similar to that he had more than once perceived inhouses infected by the Plague.
"I believe it is drawing it out of me," he said to himself. "I willgive it another trial presently."
He first sponged himself with vinegar, and felt much refreshed. Hethen wrapped himself up and lay down for a few minutes, for he feltstrangely weak. Then he got up and carried the blankets into thekitchen, where a huge fire had been made up by John. He threw the onethat had been next to him into a tub, and poured boiling water on it,and the others he hung on chairs round it. Then he went back to hisroom, and lay down and slept for half an hour. He returned to thekitchen and rearranged the blankets. When John saw him go back to hisroom he followed him.
"I have got some strong broth ready," he said. "Do you think that youcould take a cupful?"
"Ay, and a good-sized one, John. I feel sure that the sweating hasdone me good, and I will have another turn at it soon. You must go atonce and report that I have got it, or when the examiners come round,and find that the Plague is in the house, you will be fined, orperhaps imprisoned. Before you go there, please leave word at Dr.Hodges' that I am ill, and you might also call at Mr. W
allace's andleave the same message. Tell them, in both cases, that I haveeverything that I want, and trust that I shall make a good recovery."
"Ay, ay, sir; I will be off as soon as I have brought you in yourbroth, and will be back here in half an hour."
Cyril drank the broth, and then dozed again until John returned. Whenhe heard his step he called out to him to bring the hot iron, and hefilled the room with tobacco smoke before allowing him to enter.
"Now, John, the blankets are dry, and can be handled again, and I amready for another cooking."
Four times that day did Cyril undergo the sweating process. By theevening he was as weak as a child, but his skin was soft and cool,and he was free from all feeling of pain or uneasiness. Dr. Hodgescalled half an hour after he had taken it for the last time, havingonly received his message when he returned late from a terrible day'swork. Cyril had just turned in for the night.
"Well, lad, how are you feeling? I am so sorry that I did not getyour message before."
"I am feeling very well, doctor."
"Your hand is moist and cool," Dr. Hodges said in surprise. "You musthave been mistaken. I see no signs whatever of the Plague."
"There was no mistake, doctor; there were the black marks on mythighs, but I think I have pretty well sweated it out of me."
He then described the process he had followed, and said that JohnWilkes had told him that it was practised in the Levant.
"Sweating is greatly used here, and I have tried it very repeatedlyamong my patients, and in some cases, where I had notice of thedisease early, have saved them. Some bleed before sweating, but Ihave not heard of one who did so who recovered. In many cases thepatient, from terror or from weakness of body, cannot get up the heatrequired, and even if they arrive at it, have not the strength tosupport it. In your case you lost no time; you had vital heat inplenty, and you had strength to keep up the heat in full force untilyou washed, as it were, the malady out of you. Henceforth I shallorder that treatment with confidence when patients come to me whom Isuspect to have the Plague, although it may not have as yet fullydeclared itself. What have you done with the blankets?"
"I would not suffer John to touch them, but carried them myself intothe kitchen. The blankets next to me I throw into a tub and pourboiling water over them; the others I hang up before a huge fire, soas to be dry for the next operation. I take care that John does notenter the kitchen."
"How often have you done this?"
"Four times, and lay each time for an hour in the blankets. I feelvery weak, and must have lost very many pounds in weight, but my headis clear, and I suffer no pain whatever. The marks on my legs havenot spread, and seem to me less dark in colour than they were."
"Your case is the most hopeful that I have seen," Dr. Hodges said."The system has had every advantage, and to this it owes its success.In the first place, you began it as soon as you felt unwell. Mostpeople would have gone on for another twelve hours before they paidmuch attention to the first symptoms, and might not have noticed thePlague marks even when they went to bed. In the second place, you arecool and collected, and voluntarily delivered yourself to thetreatment. And in the third place, which is the most importantperhaps of all, you were in good health generally. You had notweakened yourself by swallowing every nostrum advertised, or wearingyourself out by vain terrors. Ninety-nine cases out of a hundredwould be probably beyond the reach of help before they were consciousof illness, and be too weak to stand so severe a strain on the systemas that you have undergone. Another thing is that the remedy couldhardly be attempted in a house full of frightened people. There wouldbe sure to be carelessness in the matter of the blankets, which,unless treated as you have done, would be a certain means ofspreading the infection over the house. At any rate, I would continuethe sweating as long as you can possibly stand it. Take nourishmentin the shape of broth frequently, but in small quantity. I would doit again at midnight; 'tis well not to let the virus have time togather strength again. I see you have faith in tobacco."
"Yes, doctor. I never let John Wilkes into the room after I havetaken a bath until it is full of tobacco smoke. I have twice mademyself ill with it to-day."
"Don't carry it too far, lad; for although I also believe in thevirtue of the weed, 'tis a powerful poison, and you do not want toweaken yourself. Well, I see I can do nothing for you. You and yourman seem to me to have treated the attack far more successfully thanI should have done; for, indeed, this month very few of thoseattacked have recovered, whatever the treatment has been. I shallcome round early tomorrow morning to see how you are going on. Atpresent nothing can be better. Since the first outbreak, I have notseen a single case in which the patient was in so fair a way towardsrecovery in so short a time after the discovery of the infection."
John Wilkes at this moment came in with a basin of broth.
"This is my good friend, John Wilkes, doctor."
"You ought to be called Dr. John Wilkes," the doctor, who was one ofthe most famous of his time, said, with a smile, as he shook handswith him. "Your treatment seems to be doing wonders."
"It seems to me he is doing well, doctor, but I am afraid he iscarrying it too far; he is so weak he can hardly stand."
"Never mind that," the doctor said; "it will be easy enough to buildhim up when we have once got the Plague out of him. I have told himto have another turn in the blankets at twelve o'clock to-night; itwill not do to let the malady get a fresh hold of him. But don't pushit too far, lad. If you begin to feel faint, stop it, even if youhave not been a quarter of an hour in the blankets. Do not coveryourself up too warmly when you have done; let nature have a rest. Ishall be round between eight and nine, and no doubt you will have hadanother bath before I come. Do not sleep in the room, Wilkes; he issure to go off soundly to sleep, and there is no use your running anyneedless risk. Let his window stand open; indeed, it should always beopen, except when he gets out of his blankets, or is fumigating theroom. Let him have a chair by the open window, so as to get as muchfresh air as possible; but be sure that he is warmly wrapped up withblankets, so as to avoid getting a chill. You might place a hand-bellby the side of his bed to-night, so that he can summons you should hehave occasion."
When the doctor came next morning he nodded approvingly as soon as hefelt Cyril's hand.
"Nothing could be better," he said; "your pulse is even quieter thanlast night. Now let me look at those spots."
"They are fainter," Cyril said.
"A great deal," Dr. Hodges said, in a tone of the greatest pleasure."Thank God, my lad, it is dying out. Not above three or four timessince the Plague began have I been able to say so. I shall go aboutmy work with a lighter heart today, and shall order your treatment inevery case where I see the least chance of its being carried out, butI cannot hope that it will often prove as successful as it has withyou. You have had everything in your favour--youth, a goodconstitution, a tranquil mind, an absence of fear, and a faith inGod."
"And a good attendant, doctor--don't forget that."
"No, that goes for a great deal, lad--for a great deal. Not one nurseout of a hundred would carry out my instructions carefully; not onepatient in a thousand would be able to see that they were carriedout. Of course you will keep on with the treatment, but do not pushit to extremes; you have pulled yourself down prodigiously, and mustnot go too far. Do you perceive any change in the odour when you takeoff the blankets?"
"Yes, doctor, a great change; I could scarcely distinguish it thismorning, and indeed allowed John Wilkes to carry them out, as I don'tthink I myself could have walked as far as the kitchen, though it isbut ten or twelve paces away. I told him to smoke furiously all thetime, and to come out of the kitchen as soon as he had hung them up."
Cyril took three more baths in the course of the day, but was onlyable to sustain them for twenty minutes each, as by the end of thattime he nearly fainted. The doctor came in late in the evening.
"The spots are gone, doctor," Cyril said.
"Then I think you may cons
ider yourself cured, lad. Do not take thetreatment again to-night; you can take it once in the morning; andthen if I find the spots have not reappeared by the time I come, Ishall pronounce the cure as complete, and shall begin to build you upagain."
The doctor was able to give this opinion in the morning.
"I shall not come again, lad, unless you send for me, for everymoment of my time is very precious, and I shall leave you in thehands of Dr. Wilkes. All you want now is nourishment; but take itcarefully at first, and not too much at a time; stick to broths forthe next two or three days, and when you do begin with solids do sovery sparingly."
"There was a gentleman here yesterday asking about you," John Wilkessaid, as Cyril, propped up in bed, sipped his broth. "It was Mr.Harvey. He rang at the bell, and I went down to the lower window andtalked to him through that, for of course the watchman would not letme go out and speak to him. I had heard you speak of him as one ofthe gentlemen you met at the minister's, and he seemed muchlyinterested in you. He said that you had done him a great service, andof course I knew it was by frightening that robber away. I never sawa man more pleased than he was when I told him that the doctorthought you were as good as cured, and he thanked God very piouslyfor the same. After he had done that, he asked me first whether youhad said anything to me about him. I said that you had told me youhad met him and his wife at the minister's, and that you said you haddisturbed a robber you found at his house. He said, quite sharp,'Nothing more?' 'No, not as I can think of. He is always doing goodto somebody,' says I, 'and never a word would he say about it, if itdid not get found out somehow. Why, he saved Prince Rupert's shipfrom being blown up by a fire-vessel, and never should we have knownof it if young Lord Oliphant had not written to the Captain tellinghim all about it, and saying that it was the gallantest feat done inthe battle. Then there were other things, but they were of the natureof private affairs.' 'You can tell me about them, my good man,' hesaid; 'I am no vain babbler; and as you may well believe, from whathe did for me, and for other reasons, I would fain know as much as Ican of him.' So then I told him about how you found out about therobbery and saved master from being ruined, and how you preventedMiss Nellie from going off with a rascal who pretended he was anearl."
"Then you did very wrong, John," Cyril said angrily. "I say naughtabout your speaking about the robbery, for that was told in openCourt, but you ought not, on any account, to have said a word aboutMistress Nellie's affairs."
"Well, your honour, I doubt not Mistress Nellie herself would havetold the gentleman had she been in my place. I am sure he can betrusted not to let it go further. I took care to tell him what goodit had done Mistress Nellie, and that good had come out of evil."
"Well, you ought not to have said anything about it, John. It may bethat Mistress Nellie out of her goodness of heart might herself havetold, but that is no reason why anyone else should do so. I chargeyou in future never to open your lips about that to anyone, no matterwho. I say not that any harm will come of it in this case, for Mr.Harvey is indeed a sober and God-fearing man, and assuredly askedonly because he felt an interest in me, and from no idle curiosity.Still, I would rather that he had not known of a matter touching thehonour of Mistress Nellie."
"Mum's the word in future, Master Cyril. I will keep the hatches fastdown on my tongue. Now I will push your bed up near the window as thedoctor ordered, and then I hope you will get a good long sleep."
The Plague and the process by which it had been expelled had leftCyril so weak that it was some days before he could walk across theroom. Every morning he inquired anxiously of John how he felt, andthe answer was always satisfactory. John had never been better in hislife; therefore, by the time Cyril was able to walk to his easy-chairby the window, he began to hope that John had escaped the infection,which generally declared itself within a day or two, and often withina few hours, of the first outbreak in a house.
A week later the doctor, who paid him a flying visit every two orthree days, gave him the welcome news that he had ordered the redcross to be removed from the door, and the watchmen to cease theirattendance, as the house might now be considered altogether free frominfection.
The Plague continued its ravages with but slight abatement, movinggradually eastward, and Aldgate and the district lying east of thewalls were now suffering terribly. It was nearly the end of Septemberbefore Cyril was strong enough to go out for his first walk. Sincethe beginning of August some fifty thousand people had been carriedoff, so that the streets were now almost entirely deserted, and inmany places the grass was shooting up thickly in the road. In somestreets every house bore the sign of a red cross, and the tolling ofthe bells of the dead-carts and piteous cries and lamentations werethe only sounds that broke the strange silence.
The scene was so disheartening that Cyril did not leave the houseagain for another fortnight. His first visit was to Mr. Wallace. Thesight of a watchman at the door gave him quite a shock, and he wasgrieved indeed when he heard from the man that the brave minister haddied a fortnight before. Then he went to Mr. Harvey's. There was nomark on the door, but his repeated knockings met with no response,and a woman, looking out from a window opposite, called to him thatthe house had been empty for well-nigh a month, and the people thatwere in it had gone off in a cart, she supposed into the country.
"There was a gentleman and lady," she said, "who seemed well enough,and their servant, who was carried down and placed in the cart. Itcould not have been the Plague, though the man looked as if he hadbeen sorely ill."
The next day he called on Dr. Hodges, who had not been near him forthe last month. There was no watchman at the door, and his man openedit.
"Can I see the doctor?"
"Ay, you can see him," he said; "he is cured now, and will soon beabout again."
"Has he had the Plague, then?"
"That he has, but it is a week now since the watchman left."
Cyril went upstairs. The doctor was sitting, looking pale and thin,by the window.
"I am grieved indeed to hear that you have been ill, doctor," Cyrilsaid; "had I known it I should have come a fortnight since, for I wasstrong enough to walk this distance then. I did indeed go out, butthe streets had so sad an aspect that I shrank from stirring outagain."
"Yes, I have had it," the doctor said. "Directly I felt it come on Ifollowed your system exactly, but it had gone further with me than ithad with you, and it was a week before I fairly drove the enemy out.I ordered sweating in every case, but, as you know, they seldom sentfor me until too late, and it is rare that the system got a fairchance. However, in my case it was a complete success. Two of myservants died; they were taken when I was at my worst. Both were deadbefore I was told of it. The man you saw was the one who waited onme, and as I adopted all the same precautions you had taken with yourman, he did not catch it, and it was only when he went downstairs oneday and found the other two servants lying dead in the kitchen thathe knew they had been ill."
"Mr. Wallace has gone, you will be sorry to hear, sir."
"I am sorry," the doctor said; "but no one was more fitted to die. Hewas a brave man and a true Christian, but he ran too many risks, andyour news does not surprise me."
"The only other friends I have, Mr. Harvey and his wife, went out oftown a month ago, taking with them their servant."
"Yes; I saw them the day before I was taken ill," the doctor said,"and told them that the man was so far out of danger that he mightsafely be moved. They seemed very interested in you, and were verypleased when I told them that I had now given up attending you, andthat you were able to walk across the room, and would, erelong, beyourself again. I hope we are getting to the end of it now, lad. Asthe Plague travels East it abates in the West, and the returns forthe last week show a distinct fall in the rate of mortality. There isno further East for it to go now, and I hope that in another fewweeks it will have worn itself out. We are half through October, andmay look for cold weather before long."
"I should think that I am strong enough to b
e useful again now, sir."
"I don't think you are strong enough, and I am sure I shall not giveyou leave to do so," the doctor said. "I can hardly say how far afirst attack is a protection against a second, for the recoverieshave been so few that we have scarce means of knowing, but therecertainly have been cases where persons have recovered from a firstattack and died from a second. Your treatment is too severe to begone through twice, and it is, therefore, more essential that youshould run no risk of infection than it was before. I can see thatyou are still very far from strong, and your duty now is, in thefirst place, to regain your health. I should say get on board a hoyand go to Yarmouth. A week in the bracing air there would do you moregood than six months here. But it is useless to give you that advice,because, in the first place, no shipping comes up the river, and,even if you could get down to Yarmouth by road, no one would receiveyou. Still, that is what I should do myself as soon as I could getaway, were it not that, in my case, I have my duties here."
"But, doctor, what you said to me surely applies to yourself also?"Cyril said, with a smile.
"I know that," the doctor said good-humouredly, "and expected it, butit is not for a doctor to choose. He is not free, like other men; hehas adopted a vocation in which it is his first duty to go among thesick, whatever their ailment may be, to do all that he can for them,and if, as in the present case, he can do practically nothing else,to set them an example of calmness and fearlessness. Still, for atime, at any rate, I shall be able to go no more into houses wherethe Plague is raging. 'Tis more than a month since you were cured,yet you are still a mere shadow of what you were. I had a much harderfight with the enemy, and cannot walk across the room yet withoutWilliam's help. Therefore, it will be a fortnight or three weeks yetbefore I can see patients, and much longer before I shall havestrength to visit them in their houses. By that time I trust that thePlague will have very greatly abated. Thus, you see, I shall not becalled upon to stand face to face with it for some time. Those whocall upon me here are seldom Plague-stricken. They come for otherailments, or because they feel unwell, and are nervous lest it shouldbe the beginning of an attack; but of late I have had very few comehere. My patients are mostly of the middle class, and these haveeither fled or fallen victims to the Plague, or have shut themselvesup in their houses like fortresses, and nothing would tempt them toissue abroad. Therefore, I expect that I shall have naught to do butto gain strength again. Come here when you will, lad, and the oftenerthe better. Conversation is the best medicine for both of us, and assoon as I can I will visit you. I doubt not that John Wilkes has manya story of the sea that will take our thoughts away from this sadcity. Bring him with you sometimes; he is an honest fellow, and thetalk of sailors so smacks of the sea that it seems almost to act as atonic."
Cyril stayed for an hour, and promised to return on the followingevening. He said, however, that he was sure John Wilkes would notaccompany him.
"He never leaves the house unless I am in it. He considers himself onduty; and although, as I tell him, there is little fear of anyonebreaking in, seeing how many houses with much more valuable and moreportable goods are empty and deserted, he holds to his purpose,saying that, even with the house altogether empty, it would be justas much his duty to remain in charge."
"Well, come yourself, Cyril. If we cannot get this old watch-dog outI must wait until I can go to him."
"I shall be very glad to come, doctor, for time hangs heavily on myhands. John Wilkes spends hours every day in washing and scrubbingdecks, as he calls it, and there are but few books in the house."
"As to that, I can furnish you, and will do so gladly. Go across tothe shelves there, and choose for yourself."
"Thank you very much indeed, sir. But will you kindly choose for me?I have read but few English books, for of course in France my readingwas entirely French."
"Then take Shakespeare. I hold his writings to be the finest in ourtongue. I know them nearly by heart, for there is scarce an eveningwhen I do not take him down for an hour, and reading him I forget theworries and cares of my day's work, which would otherwise often keepme from sleep. 'Tis a bulky volume, but do not let that discourageyou; it is full of wit and wisdom, and of such romance that you willoften find it hard to lay it down. Stay--I have two editions, and canwell spare one of them, so take the one on that upper shelf, and keepit when you have read it. There is but little difference betweenthem, but I generally use the other, and have come to look upon it asa friend."
"Nay, sir, I will take it as a loan."
"You will do nothing of the sort. I owe you a fee, and a bumpingone."
Henceforth Cyril did not find his time hang heavy on his hands. Itseemed to him, as he sat at the window and read, that a new worldopened to him. His life had been an eminently practical one. He hadstudied hard in France, and when he laid his books aside his time hadbeen spent in the open air. It was only since he had been withCaptain Dave that he had ever read for amusement, and the Captain'slibrary consisted only of a few books of travels and voyages. He hadnever so much as dreamt of a book like this, and for the next fewdays he devoured its pages.
"You are not looking so well, Cyril," Dr. Hodges said to him abruptlyone day.
"I am doing nothing but reading Shakespeare, doctor."
"Then you are doing wrong, lad. You will never build yourself upunless you take exercise."
"The streets are so melancholy, doctor, and whenever I go out Ireturn sick at heart and in low spirits."
"That I can understand, lad. But we must think of something," and hesat for a minute or two in silence. Then he said suddenly, "Do youunderstand the management of a boat?"
"Yes, doctor; it was my greatest pleasure at Dunkirk to be out withthe fishermen."
"That will do, then. Go down at once to the riverside. There arehundreds of boats lying idle there, for there are no passengers andno trade, and half of their owners are dead. You are sure to see somemen there; having nothing else to do, some will be hanging about. Sayyou want to hire a boat for a couple of months or to buy one. Youwill probably get one for a few shillings. Get one with a sail aswell as oars. Go out the first thing after breakfast, and go up ordown the river as the tide or wind may suit. Take some bread and meatwith you, and don't return till supper-time. Then you can spend yourevenings with Shakespeare. Maybe I myself will come down and take asail with you sometimes. That will bring the colour back into yourcheeks, and make a new man of you. Would that I had thought of itbefore!"
Cyril was delighted with the idea, and, going down to Blackfriars,bought a wherry with a sail for a pound. Its owner was dead, but helearned where the widow lived, and effected the bargain withoutdifficulty, for she was almost starving.
"I have bought it," he said, "because it may be that I may get itdamaged or sunk; but I only need it for six weeks or two months, andat the end of that time I will give it you back again. As soon as thePlague is over there will be work for boats, and you will be able tolet it, or to sell it at a fair price."
John Wilkes was greatly pleased when Cyril came back and told himwhat he had done.
"That is the very thing for you," he said. "I have been a thick-headnot to think of it. I have been worrying for the last week at seeingyou sit there and do nothing but read, and yet there seemed nothingelse for you to do, for ten minutes out in the streets is enough togive one the heartache. Maybe I will go out for a sail with youmyself sometimes, for there is no fear of the house being broken intoby daylight."
"Not in the slightest, John. I hope that you will come out with mealways. I should soon find it dull by myself, and besides, I don'tthink that I am strong enough yet to manage a pair of sculls forlong, and one must reckon occasionally on having to row against thetide. Even if the worst happened, and anyone did break in and carryoff a few things, I am sure Captain Dave would not grumble at theloss when he knew that I had wanted you to come out and help me tomanage the boat, which I was ordered to use for my health's sake."
"That he wouldn't," John said heartily;
"not if they stripped thehouse and shop of everything there was in them."
