Sweetapple Cove Part 5

"I had an umbrella when I first came here," she said, "but it blew over the cliffs long ago. Thanks, ever so much. And now what can I do?"

"You are always on hand when help is needed, Mrs. Barnett," said the doctor. "Thank you for coming. I shall need you in a minute."

She gave him a quick little friendly nod and went to the bed.

"I hope that you are not suffering too much," she told Daddy. "Dr. Grant will have you all right in a jiffy."

"Thank you, madam," said Daddy, staring at her.

The doctor had been pulling endless things out of his bag. For all of their size his hands showed a quality of gentle firmness that was quite surprising and Daddy, under his ministrations, appeared to become less apprehensive.

"Now, Mrs. Barnett," directed Dr. Grant. "One hand under the knee, if you please, and the other should hold the heel. That's the way."

Rapidly he wound some cotton batting about the injured limb. Daddy had given one awful groan when his leg was pulled straight, but now he watched the winding of bandages and the application of plaster of Paris without saying a word. The doctor finally rubbed the whole thing smooth.

"That's all right now," he said. "We will let the leg down again."

Between them they gently lowered the limb upon a hollowed pillow, and Daddy looked much relieved.

"That is all for the present," said the doctor. "I hope we didn't hurt you too much, Mr. Jelliffe."

"I think it will be easier now," admitted Daddy. "I can't say that you made me suffer very much. I am obliged to you, and also to you, madam."

She treated him to a gentle, motherly smile, and grabbed her old wet shawl again.

"I'd be ever so glad to stay with you all night," she said, "but unfortunately one of my kiddies is teething and wants me rather badly.

May I call in the morning?"

By this time father was utterly captured.

"You would be ever so kind," he said. "I can hardly thank you sufficiently."

She refused proffers of umbrellas and water-proofs, laughingly saying that she could not reach home much wetter than she was, and disappeared.

"Our parson's wife, Miss Jelliffe," explained Dr. Grant, "and the nearest thing to a blessing that Sweetapple Cove has ever known, I should say."

"She must be," I a.s.sented. "She is perfectly charming."

Then he went in the next room, where the mariner was waiting, sitting in a chair and contemplating his red socks.

"We're off again to-morrow morning to Will's Island," said the doctor.

"Just let Frenchy know, will you? We shall start as soon as possible after I have found out how Mr. Jelliffe has pa.s.sed the night."

"Aye, aye, sir," replied the old man, lifting a gnarled hand to his tousled locks.

The doctor looked around him. His big frame seemed to relax, and a compelling yawn forced him to lift his hand to his mouth. Then he came in again.

"Good night, Mr. Jelliffe," he said. "I'll be here the first thing in the morning. You may take this little tablet if the pain is severe, but don't touch it unless you are really compelled to."

Daddy stretched out his hand, in a very friendly way, and he certainly looked approvingly at the young man. Then I accompanied the latter to the outer door. It was still raining and the wind blew hard.

"Good night, Miss Jelliffe," he bade me. "Your father's injury is quite a simple one and I have no doubt we shall obtain a good result."

He picked up his oilskins and put them on again.

"Thank you," was all I could find to say. His long steps rapidly carried him away and he disappeared in the misty blackness.

When I returned the old fisherman, whose name is Sammy, was standing by father's bed.

"It seems to me," complained Daddy, "that he might have offered to stay with me all night. I call it rather inconsiderate of him."

"We is fixed fer that, sir," a.s.serted Captain Sammy. "I be goin' ter stay wid' yer. I'll jist set down by the stove and, case I should git ter sleep, jist bawl out or heave somethin' at me. First I'll go an' git a bite er grub, jist a spud er two an' a dish o' tea; likely th' old woman has some brooze fer me, waitin'. I'll be back so soon ye'll hardly know I been gone."

He looked at us, his kindly old face lighting up into a smile. Then he pointed with a stubby thumb in the direction the doctor had taken.

"He've been up three nights a-savin' d.i.c.k Will's arm, as means the livin'

o' he and the woman an' seven young 'uns. I mistrust he'll maybe fall asleep a-walkin' less he hurries. 'Tis a feelin' I knows, keepin' long watches on deck when things goes hard."

"But I can watch my father," I protested.

"So yer could, fer a fact," he admitted, "but yer couldn't run out handy an' fetch doctor, so I might as well stay here an' ye kin do a job of sleepin'."

As he hurried out Susie came in from the kitchen, buxom and rosy of cheek.

"Th' kittle's biled ef you is ready," she announced. "Yer must be a-perishin' fer a sup an' a bite."

I shall have to stop now, Aunt Jennie dear, and goodness knows when this will reach you, as mails are very movable feasts.

But it has been a comfort to write, and I was too nervous and excited to go to sleep, for a long time. I really think I ought to go to bed now.

That doctor is really a very nice young man, and I just love Mrs.

Barnett. Any one would.

Please write as often as possible, for now we are prisoners for goodness knows how long in this place, and your letters will be worth their weight in precious stones. Tell me all that is happening. Have you heard from Harry Lawrence lately?

Your loving HELEN.

CHAPTER V

_From John Grant's Diary_

When I awoke this morning, I was inclined to pinch myself, wondering whether I was still dreaming. In a moment, however, my recollections were perfectly clear. Yesterday evening I met people such as I should no more have expected to find in Sweetapple Cove than in the mountains of the moon. I am glad that my idea in coming here was not to convert myself into a hermit; I am afraid I should have been sadly disappointed. Mr.

Jelliffe is a man just beyond middle age, shrewd and inclined to good nature. His daughter, like the rest of her s.e.x, is probably a problem, but so far I can only discover in her an exceedingly nice young lady who dotes on her father and takes rather a sensible view of things.

It appears that they have been all over the world and, like experienced travelers, understand exceedingly well the art of adapting oneself to all manners of surroundings. In no time at all they had transformed their ugly little house into quite a decent dwelling.