Corporal Sam and Other Stories Part 29

CHAPTER III.

How's Rendal getting on?'

Captain Holditch, skipper of the _Carnatic_, put this question next morning to the doctor, and was somewhat surprised by the answer.

'Oh, Rendal's all right. That is to say, he will be all right.

Just now he's suffering from shock. My advice--supposing, of course, you can spare him--is to pack him straightaway off to his people on a week's leave. In a week he'll be fit as a fiddle.' The doctor paused and added, ''Wish I could feel as easy about the millionaire.'

'Why, what's the matter with him? 'Struck me he pulled round wonderfully, once you'd brought him to. He talked as cheery as a grig.

'H'm--yes,' said the doctor; 'he has been talking like that ever since, only he hasn't been talking sense. Calls me names for keeping him in bed, and wants to get out and repair that stanchion. I told him it was mended. "Nothing on earth is the matter with me," he insisted, till I had to quiet him down with bromide. By the way, did you send off any account of the accident?'

'By wireless? No; I took rather particular pains to stop that--gets into the papers, only frightens the family and friends, who conclude things to be ten times worse than they are. Plenty of time at Southampton. Boat-express'll take him home ahead of the scare?'

'Lives in Park Lane, doesn't he?--that big corner house like a game-pie? . . . Ye-es, you were thoughtful, as usual. . . . Only some one might have been down to the docks to meet him. 'Wish I knew his doctor's address. Well, never mind--I'll fix him up so that he reaches Park Lane, anyway.'

'He ought to do something for Rendal,' mused Captain Holditch.

'He will, you bet, when his head is right--that's if a millionaire's head is ever right,' added the doctor, who held radical opinions on the distribution of wealth.

The captain ignored this. He never talked politics even when ash.o.r.e.

'As plucky a rescue as ever I witnessed,' he answered the doctor.

'Yes, of course, I'll spare the lad. Slip a few clothes into his bag, and tell him he can get off by the first train. Oh, and by the way, you might ask him if he's all right for money; say he can draw on me if he wants any.'

The doctor took his message down to d.i.c.k Rendal; 'We're this moment pa.s.sing Hurst Castle,' he announced cheerfully, 'and you may tumble out if you like. But first I'm to pack a few clothes for you; if you let me, I'll do it better than the steward. Sh.o.r.e-going clothes, my boy--where do you keep your cabin trunk? Eh? Suit-case, is it?-- best leather, nickel locks--no, silver, as I'm a sinner! Hallo, my young friend!'--here the doctor looked up, mischief in his eye-- 'You never struck me as that sort of dude; and fathers and mothers don't fit their offspring out with silver locks to their suit-cases-- or they've altered since my time. Well, you'll enjoy your leave all the better; and give her my congratulations. The Old Man says you may get off as soon as we're docked, and stay home till you've recovered. I dare say it won't be long before you feel better,' he wound up, with a glance at the suit-case.

'The Old Man? Yes--yes--Captain Holditch, of course,' muttered d.i.c.k from his berth.

The doctor looked at him narrowly for a moment; but, when he spoke again, kept by intention the same easy rattling tone.

'Decent of him, eh?--Yes, and by the way, he asked me to tell you that, if you shouldn't happen to be flush of money just now, that needn't hinder you five minutes. He'll be your banker, and make it right with the Board.'

d.i.c.k lay still for half a dozen seconds, as though the words took that time in reaching him. Then he let out a short laugh from somewhere high on his nose.

'My banker? Will he? Good Lord!'

'May be,' said the doctor, dryly; laying out a suit of mufti at the foot of the bed, 'the Old Man and I belong to the same date.

I've heard that youngsters save money nowadays. But when I was your age that sort of offer would have hit the mark nine times out of ten.'

He delivered this as a parting shot. d.i.c.k, lying on his back and staring up at a knot in the woodwork over his bunk, received it placidly. Probably he did not hear. His brow was corrugated in a frown, as though he were working out a sum or puzzling over some problem. The doctor closed the door softly, and some minutes later paid a visit to Mr Markham, whom he found stretched on the couch of the white-and-gold deck-cabin, attired in a gray flannel sleeping-suit, and wrapped around the legs with a travelling rug of dubious hue.

'That's a good deal better,' he said cheerfully, after an examination, in which, while seeming to be occupied with pulses and temperature, he paid particular attention to the pupils of Mr Markham's eyes. 'We are nosing up the Solent fast--did you know it?

Ten minutes ought to see us in Southampton Water; and I suppose you'll be wanting to catch the first train.'

'I wonder,' said Mr Markham vaguely, 'if the Old Man will mind.'

The doctor stared for a moment. 'I think we may risk it,' he said, after a pause; 'though I confess that, last night, I was doubtful.

Of course, if you're going to be met, it's right enough.'

'Why should I be met?'

'Well, you see--I couldn't know, could I? Anyway, you ought to see your own doctor as soon as you get home. Perhaps, if you gave me his name, I might scribble a note to him, just to say what has happened.

Even big-wigs, you know, don't resent being helped with a little information.'

Mr Markham stared. 'Lord!' said he, 'you're talking as if I kept a tame doctor! Why, man, I've never been sick nor sorry since I went to school.'

'That's not hard to believe. I've ausculted you--sound as a bell, you are: const.i.tution strong as a horse's. Still, a shock is a shock. You've a family doctor, I expect--some one you ring up when your liver goes wrong, and you want to be advised to go to Marienbad or some such place--I'd feel easier if I could shift the responsibility on to him.'

Still Mr Markham stared. 'I've heard about enough of this shock to my system,' said he at length. 'But have it your own way. If you want me to recommend a doctor, my mother swears by an old boy in Craven Street, Strand. I don't know the number, but his name's Leadbetter, and he's death on croup.'

'Craven Street? That's a trifle off Park Lane, isn't it?--Still, Leadbetter, you say? I'll get hold of the directory, look up his address, and drop him a note or two on the case by this evening's post.

A couple of hours later Mr Markham and d.i.c.k Rendal almost rubbed shoulders in the crowd of pa.s.sengers shaking hands with the ever polite Captain Holditch, and bidding the _Carnatic_ good-bye with the usual parting compliments; but in the hurry and bustle no one noted that the pair exchanged neither word nor look of recognition.

The skipper gave d.i.c.k an honest clap on the shoulder. 'Doctor's fixed you up, then? That's right. Make the best of your holiday, and I'll see that the Board does you justice,' and with that, turned away for more hand-shaking. One small thing he did remark. When it came to Mr Markham's turn, that gentleman, before extending a hand, lifted it to his forehead and gravely saluted. But great men--as Captain Holditch knew--have their eccentric ways.

Nor was it remarked, when the luggage came to be sorted out and put on board the boat express, that d.i.c.k's porter under his direction collected and wheeled off Mr Markham's; while Mr Markham picked up d.i.c.k's suit-case, walked away with it unchallenged to a third-cla.s.s smoking compartment and deposited it on the rack. There were three other pa.s.sengers in the compartment. 'Good Lord!' e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed one, as the millionaire stepped out to purchase an evening paper.

'Isn't that Markham? Well!--and travelling third!' 'Saving habit-- second nature,' said another. 'That's the way to get rich, my boy.'

Meanwhile d.i.c.k, having paid for four places, and thereby secured a first-cla.s.s solitude, visited the telegraph office, and shrank the few pounds in his pocket by sending a number of cablegrams.

On the journey up Mr Markham took some annoyance from the glances of his fellow-pa.s.sengers. They were furtive, almost reverential, and this could only be set down to his exploit of yesterday. He thanked Heaven they forbore to talk of it.

CHAPTER IV.

In the back-parlour of a bookseller's shop, between the Strand and the Embankment, three persons sat at tea; the proprietor of the shop, a gray little man with round spectacles and bushy eyebrows, his wife, and a pretty girl of twenty or twenty-one. The girl apparently was a visitor, for she wore her hat, and her jacket lay across the arm of an old horsehair sofa that stood against the wall in the lamp's half shadow; and yet the gray little bookseller and his little Dresden-china wife very evidently made no stranger of her.

They talked, all three, as members of a family talk, when contented and affectionate; at haphazard, taking one another for granted, not raising their voices.

The table was laid for a fourth; and by-and-by they heard him coming through the shop--in a hurry too. The old lady, always sensitive to the sound of her boy's footsteps, looked up almost in alarm, but the girl half rose from her chair, her eyes eager.

'I know,' she said breathlessly. 'Jim has heard--'

'Chrissy here? That's right.' A young man broke into the room, and stood waving a newspaper. 'The _Carnatic's_ arrived--here it is under "Stop Press"--I bought the paper as I came by Somerset House-- "_Carnatic_ arrived at Southampton 3.45 this afternoon. Her time from Sandy Hook, 5 days, 6 hours, 45 minutes."

'Then she hasn't broken the record this time, though d.i.c.k was positive she would,' put in the old lady. During the last six months she had developed a craze for Atlantic records, and knew the performances of all the great liners by heart.

'You bad little mother!'--Jim wagged a forefinger at her. 'You don't deserve to hear another word.'

'Is there any more?'

'More? Just you listen to this--"Reports heroic rescue. Yesterday afternoon Mr Markham, the famous Insurance King, accidentally fell overboard from fore deck, and was gallantly rescued by a young officer named Kendal"--you bet that's a misprint for Rendal--error in the wire, perhaps--we'll get a later edition after tea--"who leapt into the sea and swam to the sinking millionaire, supporting him until a.s.sistance arrived. Mr Markham had by this afternoon recovered sufficiently to travel home by the Boat Express." There, see for yourselves!'

Jim spread the newspaper on the table.