The White Squall | Page 9

to me in order to show his sympathy; "he berry well, no scrape um knees or nuffin', he--"
"There, that will do," said Doctor Martin, interrupting the flow of the good-natured darkey's eloquence, "you mustn't agitate Master Tom now; he's in a very critical state, and any excitement is bad for him. You'd better go and see after the horses."
"Me no want agg-agg-tate um, Mass' Doctor," pitifully expostulated Jake, almost blubbering at the accusation of his possibly wanting to do me harm, "I'se only glad to hear him 'peak again, dat all;" and he went out of the room quite crest-fallen.
"Oh, doctor!" I cried, but then, all at once, a sort of sick sensation came over me. Dad and Doctor Martin seemed to be waltzing round me, with the furniture and everything else following suit, and I fainted away again, I fancy; although I could hear their whispering voices, as of people who were far away in the distance. Then, there was a blank.
When I next opened my eyes, strange to say, I was in my own little bed at home, with my mother sitting by my side.
I felt very weak, and one of my arms was tied up in bandages, while my other limbs didn't seem to belong to me; but, at first, I had no recollection of what had happened.
I could not imagine what was the reason for my being laid up like that; and, seeing my mother there, I fancied for the moment that I had overslept myself, as was frequently the case, and that she had come to call me for breakfast.
"Why, mother," I said, "I'm sorry I'm so late."
"You've been ill, Tom," she replied soothingly, without referring to my laziness as I expected; "I'm glad, though, you're recovering at last."
"Hi!" I exclaimed, much astonished.
"Yes, my dear, very ill," she repeated.
"Dear me! and for how long?" I asked, in wonder still.
"Well, it is more than three weeks since you were brought here, dear; but take this now, Tom," she added, before telling me anything further, putting her arm round me and lifting me up in a sitting position, so as to be better able to swallow something in a wine-glass which she held to my lips.
"Medicine, eh?" I said, making a wry face.
"Yes, dear, but it doesn't taste badly," she whispered coaxingly. "Besides, Tom, if you won't take it the doctor says you are not to be allowed to speak, and of course I shall not be able to answer your questions."
This settled the point; so I at once tossed off the draught she handed me, which, although slightly bitter, was not nearly as nasty as I thought it would have been, having a wholesome horror of doctor's mixtures. The draught, at all events, put fresh vigour into me. It certainly gave me strength to speak again as soon as I had gulped it down, for I was fidgeting to know what had occurred.
"Now, mother," I said, "tell me all about it. I can't be quiet till you do. Have I had the fever again, or what?"
I may mention in explanation of this question of mine that, the year before, I had been confined to bed with a sharp attack of a sort of tertian ague, which is the scourge of most tropical countries. This was the only illness I had ever suffered from in my young life; so, I thought now that my old enemy had paid me another visit.
"No, dear, you have not had the fever," she answered. "Do you forget all about going to town to meet your father, and how your pony threw you over his head at the foot of Constitution Hill?"
Thereupon the whole thing flashed back upon my mind in an instant.
"But how did I get here?" I inquired, puzzled at this part of the affair. "I remember now about my tumble, and seeing dad and Doctor Martin at some place in Saint George's, with old Jake crying behind them, but I don't recollect anything else."
"My boy," said my mother seriously, her lips trembling as she spoke, "you've had a very narrow escape from an awful death! Do you know that had you fallen on your head in the street when Prince pitched you over, nothing could have saved your life? As it was, you got your left arm broken and face cut, besides which you have been suffering from a slight concussion of the brain, Doctor Martin says. It is the latter which has made you insensible for so long a time. At one time, indeed, we all despaired of you!"
"Really!" I exclaimed, drawing a long breath of dismay at this catalogue of my injuries.
"Yes, really, Tom," said she; "it is a wonder to me that you are now lying here in your right senses again."
"But how did I get