Part 29 (1/2)

”But I'm not dead, Brace.”

”Not a bit, old fellow. Does your arm hurt much?”

”When I move it. Then it stings. I say, that must be a good, healthy sign!”

”I should think so.”

”But my head aches terribly--it is burning and throbbing.”

”Aha! good morning, Sir Humphrey,” cried the captain cheerily. ”Come, that's better. Why, you frightened us all last night.”

”I am very sorry.”

”And I am very glad,” said the captain. ”Did I hear you say just now that your head was aching very badly?”

”Yes, terribly.”

”Well, don't be uneasy about that. I gave you a strong dose of opium yesterday, and you've only just slept it off. Never mind about the head. Let your doctors see your arm.”

This was carefully unbandaged, the captain displaying no mean skill.

”Swollen a bit,” he said; ”the bandages have been drawn too tight. A nasty hurt; but you're a healthy man, and the wound looks the same.

There's no poison here.”

”Do you feel sure?” asked Sir Humphrey, while Brace looked anxiously on.

”Certain, sir. Look for yourself. A bit hot and inflamed, and very tender to the touch, but quite natural. A poisoned wound would look very different from that. Here, squire, we'll give it a good bath and a new bandage and it will be quite easy. We're not going to turn back from our voyage because our leader has been hurt.”

”Your words do me good, captain,” said Sir Humphrey, smiling. ”A man cannot help feeling just a bit nervous when he has received such a wound, can he?”

”Of course not, sir. He wouldn't be a man if he didn't. I don't suppose a marble image minds much about a chip or its head being knocked off. But I know I should.”

”Should you, captain?” said Brace drily.

”Of course I--No, I shouldn't,” cried the captain. ”I suppose a fellow wouldn't think much without his head. But let's talk sense. I'm not a doctor, Sir Humphrey, but I've had a lot of queer jobs to tackle in my time, and only lost one patient. He was too much for me. Fell from the main-top cross-trees and broke his neck. I couldn't set that. But I did set a broken arm and a broken leg. Made 'em stronger than they were before. Then I had a chap nipped between a water-cask and the side of the hold. Broke two of his ribs. I mended him too.”

”How did you manage to set the ribs?” said Brace, noting that the captain's decisive way influenced his brother.

”Made 'em set themselves, squire. I gave him as much as he could eat, and then made him draw in as much air as he could and hold it while I put a great broad bandage round him. I had a piece of canvas pierced with eye-holes, and laced it up tight about his chest with a bit o'

yarn. He came right again in no time. So will you, sir. All you want for this arm is rest, plenty of cold bathing, and clean bandages.

Nature will soon heal that up. How does the sponging feel?”

”Delightful!” said the patient.

”And what about your head?”

”Very bad.”

”Cup of tea will soon set that right, sir; but I meant your thinking apparatus--let's have some more water, squire. There, I'll hold his arm over the basin, and you trickle it on from the spout of the can gently.

That'll make the muscles contract healthily and help the swelling to go down.”