Part 5 (1/2)

”But are you really quite well?”

”Never better in my life.”

”Then it's too bad, sir,” cried the lawyer. ”I've been waiting to see you give up, and if you will not, I must, for there's something wrong with this boat.”

”Nonsense! One of the best boats on the line.”

”Then, there's something wrong with me. I can't enjoy my snuff, and it's all nonsense for this boy to be called an invalid. I'm the invalid, sir, and I am horribly ill. Help me below, there's a good fellow.”

Mr Burne looked so deplorably miserable, and at the same time so comic, that it was impossible to avoid smiling, and as he saw this he stamped his foot.

”Laughing at me, eh? Both of you. Now, look here. I know you both feel so poorly that you don't know what to do, and I'll stop up on deck and watch you out of spite.”

”Nonsense! I could not help smiling,” said the professor good-humouredly. ”Let me help you down.”

”Thank you, no,” said the lawyer taking off his hat to wipe his moist brow, and then putting it on again, wrong way first. ”I'm going to stop on deck, sir--to stop on deck.”

He seemed to be making a tremendous effort to master the qualmish feeling that had attacked him, and in this case determination won.

A night at Boulogne, and at breakfast-time next morning Lawrence seemed no worse for the journey, so they went on at once to Paris, where a day's rest was considered advisable, and then, the preliminaries having been arranged, the train 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 pa.s.sed 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 fas.h.i.+on.

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.”