Yussuf the Guide | Page 9

was entered once more, and after two or three stoppages to avoid over-wearying the patient, Trieste was reached, where a couple of days had to be passed before the arrival of the steamer which was to take them to Smyrna, and perhaps farther, though the professor was of opinion that it might be wise to make that the starting-place for the interior.
But when the steamer arrived a delay of five days more ensued before a start was made; and all this time the invalid's companions watched him anxiously.
It was in these early days a difficult thing to decide, and several times over the professor and Mr Burne nearly came to an open rupture-- one sufficiently serious to spoil the prospects of future friendly feeling.
But these little tiffs always took place unknown to Lawrence, who remained in happy ignorance of what was going on.
The disagreements generally happened something after this fashion.
Lawrence would be seated in one of the verandahs of the hotel enjoying the soft warm sea-breeze, and gazing out at the scene glowing in all the brightness of a southern sun, when the old lawyer would approach the table where, out of the lad's sight and hearing, the professor was seated writing.
The first notice the latter had of his fellow-traveller's approach would be the loud snapping of the snuff-box, which was invariably followed by a loud snuffling noise, and perhaps by a stentorian blast. Then the lawyer would lean his hand upon the table where the professor was writing with:
"Really, my dear sir, you might put away your pens and ink for a bit. I've left mine behind. Here, I want to talk to you."
The professor politely put down his pen, leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.
"Hah! that's better," said Mr Burne. "Now we can talk. I wanted to speak to you about that boy."
"I am all attention," said the professor.
"Well, sir, there's a good German physician here as well as the English one. Don't you think we ought to call both in, and let them have a consultation?"
"What about?" said the professor calmly.
"About, sir? Why, re Lawrence."
"But he seems certainly better, and we have Doctor Snorter's remedies if anything is necessary."
"Better, sir? decidedly worse. I have been watching him this morning, and he is distinctly more feeble."
"Why, my dear Mr Burne, he took my arm half an hour ago, and walked up and down that verandah without seeming in the least distressed."
"Absurd, sir!"
"But I assure you--"
"Tut, tut, sir! don't tell me. I watch that boy as I would an important case in a court of law. Nothing escapes me, and I say he is much worse."
"Really, I should be sorry to contradict you, Mr Burne," replied the professor calmly; "but to me it seems as if this air agreed with him, and I should have said that, short as the time has been since he left home, he is better."
"Worse, sir, worse decidedly."
"Really, Mr Burne, I am sorry to differ from you," replied the professor stiffly; "but I must say that Lawrence is, to my way of thinking, decidedly improved."
"Pah! Tchah! Absurd!" cried the lawyer; and he went off blowing his nose.
Another day he met the professor, who had just left Lawrence's side after sitting and talking with him for some time, and there was an anxious, care-worn look in his eyes that impressed the sharp lawyer at once.
"Hallo!" he exclaimed; "what's the matter?"
The professor shook his head.
"Lawrence," he said sadly.
"Eh? Bless me! You don't say so," cried Mr Burne; and he hurried out into the verandah, which was the lad's favourite place.
There Mr Burne stayed for about a quarter of an hour, and then went straight to where the professor was writing a low-spirited letter to Mrs Dunn, in which he had said that he regretted bringing Lawrence right away into those distant regions, for though Trieste was a large port, and there was plenty of medical attendance to be obtained, it was not like being at home.
"I say! Look here!" cried Mr Burne, "you ought to know better, you know."
"I do not understand you," replied the professor quietly.
"Crying wolf, you know. It's too bad."
"Really," said the professor, who was in one of his dreamy, abstracted moods, "you are mistaken, Mr Burne. I did not say a word about a wolf."
"Well, whoever said you did, man?" cried the lawyer impatiently as he took out his snuff-box and whisked forth a pinch, flourishing some of the fine dry dust about where he stood. "Can't you, a university man, understand metaphors--shepherd boy calling wolf when there was nothing the matter? The patient's decidedly better, sir."
"Really, Mr Burne--er--tchishew--er--tchishew!"
Old Mr Burne stood looking on, smiling grimly, as the professor had a violent fit of sneezing, and in mocking tones held out his snuff-box and said:
"Have a good pinch? Stop