Magnum Bonum; Or, Mother Carey's Brood Part 58

The doctor would have had her take some rest, but she shook her head.

The only means of allaying the gnawing anxiety for Jock, and the despairing fancies about his suffering and Johnny's helplessness, was the attending constantly to Armine.

"Anyway, I will see him to-day," said Dr. Medlicott, impelled far more by the patient silence with which she sat, one hand against her beating heart, than he would have been by any entreaty. But how she thanked him when she found him really setting forth! She insisted on his taking a guide, as much for his own security as to carry some additional comforts to the prisoners, and she committed to him two little notes, one to each boy, written through a mist of tears. Yes; tears, unusual as they were with her, were called forth as much by the kindness she met with as by her sick yearning after the two lonely boys. And when she knew the doctor was on his way, she could yield to Armine's signs of entreaty, lie back in her chair and sleep, while Reeves watched over him.

When the doctor, by a strong man's determination, had made his way up the pa.s.s, he found matters better than he had dared to expect. The patient was certainly not worse, and the medicine had kept him in a sleepy, tranquil state, in which he hardly realised the situation. His young attendant was just considering how to husband the last draught, when the welcome, dripping visitor appeared. The patient was not in bad spirits considering, and could not but feel himself reprieved by the weather. He was too sleepy to feel the dulness of his present position, and even allowed that his impromptu nurse had done tolerably well.

Johnny had been ready at every call, had rubbed away an attack of pain, hurt wonderfully little in lifting him, and was "not half a bad lot altogether"--an admission of which doctor and nurse knew the full worth.

Johnny himself was pleased and grateful, and had that sort of satisfaction which belongs to the finding out of one's own available talent. He had done what was p.r.o.nounced the right thing; and not only that, but he had liked the doing it, and he declared himself not afraid to encounter another night alone with his cousin. He had picked up enough vernacular German to make himself understood, and indeed was a decided favourite with Fraulein Rosalie, who would do anything for her dear young Herr. It was possible to get a fair amount of sleep, and Dr.

Medlicott felt satisfied that the charge was not too much for him, and indeed there was no other alternative. The doctor stayed as long as he could, and did his best to enliven the dulness by producing a pocketful of Tauchnitzes, and sitting talking while the patient dozed. Johnny showed such intelligent curiosity as to the how and why of the symptoms and their counteraction, that after some explanation the doctor said, "You ought to be one of us, my friend."

"I have sometimes thought about it," said John.

"Indeed!" cried the doctor, like an enthusiast in his profession; and John, though not a ready speaker, was drawn on by his notes of interest to say, "I don't really like anything so much as making out about man and what one is made of."

"Physiology?"

"Yes," said the boy, who had been shy of uttering the scientific term.

"There's nothing like it for interest, it seems to me. Besides, one is more sure of being of use that way than in any other."

"Capital! Then what withholds you? Isn't it _swell_ enough?"

Johnny laughed and coloured. "I'm not such a fool, but I am not sure about my people."

"I thought your uncle was Joseph Brownlow."

"My aunt would be delighted, but it is my own people. They would say my education--Eton and all that--was not intended for it."

"You may tell them that whatever tends to make you more thoroughly a man and gentleman, and less of a mere professional, is a benefit to your work. The more you are in yourself, the higher your work will be. I hope you will go to the university."

"I mean to go up for a scholarship next year; but I've lost a great deal of time now, and I don't know how far that will tell."

"I think you will find that what you may have lost in time, you will have gained in power."

"I do want to go in for physical science, but there's another difficulty. One of my cousins does so, but the effect on him has not made my father like it the better--and--and to tell the truth--" he half mumbled, "it makes me doubt--"

"The effect on his faith?"

"Yes."

"If faith is unsettled by looking deeper into the mysteries of G.o.d's works it cannot have been substantial faith, but merely outward, thoughtless reception," said the doctor, as he met two thoughtful dark eyes fixed on him in inquiry and consideration.

"Thank you, sir," after a pause.

"Had this troubled you?"

"Yes," said John; "I couldn't stand doubt there. I would rather break stones on the road than set myself doubting!"

"Why should you think that there is danger?"

"It seems to be so with others."

"Depend upon it, Doubting Castle never lay on the straight road. If men run into it, it is not simple study of the works of creation that leads them there; but either they have only acquiesced, and never made their faith a living reality, or else they are led away by fashion and pride of intellect. One who begins and goes on in active love of G.o.d and man, will find faith and reverence not diminished but increased."

"But aren't there speculations and difficulties?"

"None which real active religion, and love cannot regard as the mere effects of half-knowledge--the distortions of a partial view. I speak with all my heart, as one who has seen how it has been with many of my own generation, as well as with myself."

Johnny bent his head, and the young physician, somewhat surprised at finding himself saying so much on such points, left that branch of the subject, and began to talk to him about his uncle.

CHAPTER XXII. -- SHUTTING THE STABLE DOOR.

Presumptuous maid, with looks intent, Again she gazed, again she bent, Nor knew the gulf between.

Grey.

"Hurrah! It's Johnny!"

"Georgie. Recollect yourself."

"But, mamma, it was Johnny."

"Johnny does not come till evening. Sit still, children, or I shall have to send you to dine in the nursery."

"Somebody did pa.s.s the window, mamma, but I thought it was Rob," said Jessie, now grown into a very fine-looking, tall, handsome maiden, with a grandly-formed head and shoulders, and pleasant soft brown eyes.

"It was Johnny," reiterated little George; and at that moment the dining-room door opened, and the decorum of the luncheon dinner entirely giving way, the three little ones all precipitated themselves towards the entering figure, while Jessie and her mother rose at their two ends of the table, and the Colonel, no luncheon eater, came in from the study.

"What, Johnny, already!"

"The tidal train was earlier than I expected, so I have another half-day."

"Well! are you all well?"

"Quite well. Why--how you are grown! I thought it was Rob when you pa.s.sed my window," said his father.

"So did I at first," added Jessie, "but Rob is much broader."

"Yes," said his mother. "I am glad you are come back, Johnny; you look thin and pale. Sit down. Some mutton or some rabbit-pie? No, no, let Jessie help you; you shan't have all the carving; I'm sure you are tired; you don't look at all well."

"I was crossing all night, you know," said Johnny laughing, "and am as hungry as a hunter, that's all. What a blessing to see a nice clean English potato again without any flummery!"

"Ah! I thought so," said his mother; "they didn't know how to feed you.

It was an unfortunate business altogether."