Rujub, the Juggler, G. A. Henty [top fiction books of all time .TXT] 📗

“A broken arm is no trifle,” the Doctor said, “especially in a climate like this. Come into the hospital at once and let me see to it.”

One of the bones of the forearm was indeed broken, and the Doctor, having applied splints and bandages, peremptorily ordered him to lie down. Bathurst protested that he was perfectly able to get up with his arm in a sling.

“I know you are able,” the Doctor said testily; “but if you were to go about in this oven, we should very likely have you in a high fever by tomorrow morning. Keep yourself perfectly quiet for today; by tomorrow, if you have no signs of fever, and the wound is doing well, we will see about it.”

Upon leaving him Dr. Wade went out and heard the details of the fight.

“Your friend Bathurst particularly distinguished himself,” the officer who commanded the volunteers said. “He cut down the ressaldar who commanded the Sepoys, and was in the thick of it. I saw him run one sowar through and shoot another. I am not surprised at his fighting so well after what you have gone through in Deennugghur and in that Cawnpore business.”

The Doctor then went up to see Isobel. She looked flushed and excited.

“Is it true, Doctor, that Mr. Bathurst went out with the volunteers, and that he is wounded?”

“Both items are true, my dear. Fortunately the wound is not serious. A ball has broken the small bone of the left forearm, but I don't think it will lay him up for long; in fact, he objects strongly to go to bed.”

“But how did he—how is it he went out to fight, Doctor? I could hardly believe it when I was told, though of course I did not say so.”

“My dear, it was an experiment. He told me that he did not feel at all nervous when the Sepoys rushed in at the gate firing when he was walking off with you, and it struck me that possibly the sudden shock and the jump into the water when they attacked the boats, and that rap on the head with a musket ball, might have affected his nervous system, and that he was altogether cured, so he was determined on the first occasion to try.”

“And did it, Doctor?” Isobel asked eagerly. “I don't care, you know, one bit whether he is nervous when there is a noise or not, but for his sake I should be glad to know that he has got over it; it has made him so unhappy.”

“He has got over it, my dear; he went through the fight without feeling the least nervous, and distinguished himself very much in the charge, as the officer who commanded his troop has just told me.”

“Oh, I am glad—I am thankful, Doctor; no words can say how pleased I am; I know that it would have made his whole life unhappy, and I should have always had the thought that he remembered those hateful words of mine.”

“I am as glad as you are, Isobel, though I fancy it will change our plans.”

“How change our plans, Doctor? I did not know that I had any plans.”

“I think you had, child, though you might not acknowledge them even to yourself. My plan was that you should somehow convince him that, in spite of what you said, and in spite of his leaving you in that boat, you were quite content to take him for better or for worse.”

“How could I tell him that?” the girl said, coloring.

“Well, I think you would have had to do so somehow, my dear, but that is not the question now. My plan was that when you had succeeded in doing this you should marry him and go home with him.”

“But why, Doctor,” she asked, coloring even more hotly than before, “is the plan changed?”

“Because, my dear, I don't think Bathurst will go home with you.”

“Why not, Doctor?” she asked, in surprise.

“Because, my dear, he will want, in the first place, to rehabilitate himself.”

“But no one knows, Doctor, about the siege and what happened there, except you and me and Mr. Wilson; all the rest have gone.”

“That is true, my dear, but he will want to rehabilitate himself in his own eyes; and besides, that former affair which first set you against him, might crop up at any time. Other civilians, many of them, have volunteered in the service, and no man of courage would like to go away as long as things are in their present state. You will see Bathurst will stay.”

Isobel was silent.

“I think he will be right,” she said at last gravely; “if he wishes to do so, I should not try to dissuade him; it would be very hard to know that he is in danger, but no harder for me than for others.”

“That is right, my dear,” the Doctor said affectionately; “I should not wish my little girl—and now the Major has gone I feel that you are my little girl—to think otherwise. I think,” he went on, smiling, “that the first part of that plan we spoke of will not be as difficult as I fancied it would be; the sting has gone, and he will get rid of his morbid fancies.”

“When shall I be able to see him?”

“Well, if I had any authority over him you would not see him for a week; as I have not, I think it likely enough that you will see him tomorrow.”

“I would rather wait if it would do him any harm, Doctor.”

“I don't think it will do him any harm. Beyond the fact that he will have to carry his arm in a sling for the next fortnight, I don't think he will have any trouble with it.”