The Lady of the Barge, W. W. Jacobs [feel good books to read txt] 📗

“I won’t say anything,” said the doctor. “Where did you say the money was?”

The skipper pointed to his trousers, and Mr. Mackenzie, his national spirit rising in hot rage, took out the agreed amount and handed it to the physician.

“Am I in danger?” said the skipper.

“There’s always danger,” said the doctor, in his best bedside manner. “Have you made your will?”

The other, turning pale, shook his head. “Perhaps you’d like to see a solicitor?” said Carson, in winning tones.

“I’m not bad enough for that,” said the skipper, stoutly.

“You must stay here and nurse the skipper, Mr. Mackenzie,” said Carson, turning to the mate; “and be good enough not to make that snuffling noise; it’s worrying to an invalid.”

“Snuffling noise?” repeated the horror-struck mate.

“Yes; you’ve got an unpleasant habit of snuffling,” said the doctor; “it sometimes. I worries me meant to speak to you about it before. You mustn’t do it here. If you want to snuffle, go and snuffle on deck.”

The frenzied outburst of the mate was interrupted by the skipper. “Don’t make that noise in my cabin, Mr. Mackenzie,” he said, severely.

Both mates withdrew in dudgeon, and Carson, after arranging the sufferer’s bedclothes, quitted the cabin and sought his friend. Mr. Thomson was at first incredulous, but his eyes glistened brightly at the sight of the half-sovereign.

“Better hide it,” he said, apprehensively; “the skipper’ll have it back when he gets well; it’s the only coin we’ve got.”

“He won’t get well,” said Dr. Carson, easily; “not till we get to Hong-kong, that is.”

“What’s the matter with him?” whispered the solicitor.

The doctor, evading his eye, pulled a long face and shook his head. “It may be the cooking,” he said, slowly. “I’m not a good cook, I admit. It might be something got into the food from the medicine-chest. I shouldn’t be at all surprised if the mates are taken bad too.”

And indeed at that very moment the boy came rushing to the galley again, bawling out that Mr. Mackenzie was lying flat on his stomach in his bunk, punching the air with his fists and rending it with his language. The second officer appeared on deck as he finished his tale, and glancing forward, called out loudly for the cook.

“You’re wanted, Frank,” said the solicitor.

“When he calls me doctor, I’ll go,” said the other, stiffly.

“Cook!” bawled the second officer. “Cook! Cook!”

He came running forward, his face red and angry, and his fist doubled. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?” he demanded, fiercely.

“I’ve been promoted,” said Carson, sweetly. “I’m ship’s surgeon now.”

“Come down below at once, or I’ll take you there by the scruff of your neck,” vociferated the other.

“You’re not big enough, little man,” said the doctor, still smiling. “Well, well, lead the way, and we’ll see what we can do.”

He followed the speechless second officer below, and found the boy’s description of the first officer’s state as moonlight unto sunlight, as water unto wine. Even the second officer was appalled at the spectacle, and ventured a protest.

“Gie me something at once,” yelled Mr. Mackenzie.

“Do you wish me to undertake your case?” inquired the doctor, suavely.

Mr. Mackenzie said that he did, in seven long, abusive, and wicked sentences.

“My fee is half a guinea,” said the doctor, softly, “poor people who cannot afford more, mates and the like, I sometimes treat for less.”

“I’ll die first,” howled the mate; “you won’t get any money out of me.”

“Very good,” said the doctor, and rose to depart.

“Bring him back, Rogers,” yelled the mate; “don’t let him go.”

But the second officer, with a strange awesome look in his eyes, was leaning back in his seat, tightly gripping the edge of the table in both hands.

“Come, come,” said the doctor, cheerily⁠—“what’s this? You mustn’t be ill, Rogers. I want you to nurse these other two.”

The other rose slowly to his feet and eyed him with lacklustre eyes. “Tell the third officer to take charge,” he said, slowly; “and if he’s to be nurse as well, he’s got his hands full.”

The doctor sent the boy to apprise the third officer of his responsibilities, and then stood watching the extraordinary and snakelike convolutions of Mr. Mackenzie.

“How much⁠—did⁠—ye say?” hissed the latter.

“Poor people,” repeated the doctor, with relish, “five shillings a visit; very poor people, half a crown.”

“I’ll have half a crown’s worth,” moaned the miserable mate.

“Mr. Mackenzie,” said a faint voice from the skipper’s cabin.

“Sir?” yelled the mate, who was in torment.

“Don’t answer me like that, sir,” said the skipper, sharply. “Will you please to remember that I’m ill, and can’t bear that horrible noise you’re making?”

“I’m⁠—ill⁠—too,” gasped the mate.

“Ill? Nonsense!” said the skipper, severely. “We can’t both be ill. How about the ship?”

There was no reply, but from another cabin the voice of Mr. Rogers was heard calling wildly for medical aid, and offering impossible sums in exchange for it. The doctor went from cabin to cabin, and, first collecting his fees, administered sundry potions to the sufferers; and then, in his capacity of cook, went forward and made an unsavory mess he called gruel, which he insisted upon their eating.

Thanks to his skill, the invalids were freed from the more violent of their pains, but this freedom was followed by a weakness so alarming that they could hardly raise their heads from their pillows⁠—a state of things which excited the intense envy of the third officer, who, owing to his responsibilities, might just as well have been without one.

In this state of weakness, and with the fear of impending dissolution before his eyes, the skipper sent for Mr. Harry Thomson, and after some comparisons between lawyers and sharks, in which stress was laid upon certain redeeming features of the latter, paid a guinea and made his will. His example, save in the amount of the fee, was followed by the mate; but Mr. Rogers, being approached tentatively by the doctor in his friend’s behalf, shook his head and thanked his stars he had nothing to leave. He had enjoyed his money, he said.

They mended slowly as they approached Hong-kong, though a fit of temper on