Part 11 (1/2)
”That will do, then, nicely. There, my boy, these are my presents.
Now, Preston, I suppose we must each have one of these long choppers?”
”Yes, I think so,” replied the professor. ”They will make us look more formidable.”
”Very well, then: choose one for me too, but I warn you, I shall fasten mine down in the sheath with gum. I'm not going to take mine out, for fear of cutting off somebody's legs or wings, or perhaps my own.”
”You feel better now?” said the professor.
”Hold your tongue, sir--do! No: I don't feel better. I had forgotten my pain, but now you've made me think about it again. There!--choose two swords and knives and let's get back.”
Two plain useful sabres were selected, and the dealer received his orders to send the weapons to the hotel, after which the injured man was helped into a standing position, but not without the utterance of several groans. Then he was walked up and down the shop several times, ending by declaring himself much better.
”There, Lawrence!” he cried, ”that's the advantage of being an Englishman. Now, if I had been a Dutchman or a Frenchman I should have had myself carried back, sent for a couple of doctors, and been very bad for a month or two; but you see I'm better already, and I'm not going to give up to please the Grand Panjandrum himself. Dear me! bless my heart! panjandrum! Pan--pan--pan--jan--jan--jan--drum! Where did I hear that word?”
”In a sort of nursery ditty, sir,” said Lawrence laughing.
”To be sure I did,” cried the old man, ”and I had forgotten it; but I say, don't laugh like that, boy.”
”Why not, sir?”
”Because it will make us believe that you have been shamming all this time, and that you're really quite well, thank you, sir!--eh?”
”I--I think I am better,” said Lawrence quickly. ”I don't know why, but I have not been thinking about being ill these last few days, everything is so bright and suns.h.i.+ny here, you see.”
”Yes, I see,” said the old lawyer, giving the professor a peculiar look; and they went back to the hotel.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
THE GREEK SKIPPER.
”No, I can't do it,” said Mr Burne after several brave efforts; ”I really am a good deal jarred, and it is quite impossible. I am quite right as long as I keep still, but in such pain if I move that I can hardly bear it.”
”Then we will put off the journey for a week,” said the professor decisively.
”And disappoint the lad?” said Mr Burne. ”No; you two must go.”
”How can you talk like that?” exclaimed Lawrence sharply, ”when you have come on purpose to help me get strong again? Mr Preston, we shall stay here--shall we not?”
”Of course,” replied the professor. ”The enjoyment of our trip depends upon our being staunch to one another.”
Mr Burne declared that it was absurd, and ridiculous, and nonsensical, and raked out a few other adjectives to give force to his sentiments, speaking in the most sour way possible; but it was very evident that he was highly pleased, and the steamer sailed without them.
The next day Mr Burne was so stiff that he could not walk about; but he refused to see a doctor, and a week pa.s.sed before he could move without pain. Then one morning he declared that he was mending fast, and insisted upon inquiries being made respecting the sailing of the next steamer that would stop at one or other of the little towns on the south coast; but there was nothing bound in that direction, nor likely to be for another fortnight.
”And all my fault!” cried Mr Burne angrily. ”Tut-tut-tut! Here, ring for the landlord.”
The landlord came and was questioned.
No, there was no possibility of a pa.s.sage being made for quite a fortnight, unless the visitors would go in a small sailing boat belonging to one or the other of the trading crews.