Part 3 (1/2)

”Hush--be still!” muttered Craggs, ”here's the young master.” And as he spoke, a youth of about fifteen, well grown and handsome, but poorly, even meanly clad, approached them.

”Have you seen my father? What do you think of him?” asked he, eagerly.

”'Tis a critical state he's in, your honor,” said Billy, bowing; ”but I think he 'll come round--_deplation, deplation, deplation--actio, actio, actio_; relieve the gorged vessels, and don't drown the grand hydraulic machine, the heart--them's my sentiments.”

Turning from the speaker with a look of angry impatience, the boy whispered some words in the Corporal's ear.

”What could I do, sir?” was the answer; ”it was this fellow or nothing.”

”And better, a thousand times better, nothing,” said the boy, ”than trust his life to the coa.r.s.e ignorance of this wretched quack.” And in his pa.s.sion the words were uttered loud enough for Billy to overhear them.

”Don't be hasty, your honor,” said Billy, submissively, ”and don't be unjust. The realms of disaze is like an unknown tract of country, or a country that's only known a little, just round the coast, as it might be; once ye're beyond that, one man is as good a guide as another, _coeteris paribus_, that is, with 'equal lights.'”

”What have you done? Have you given him anything?” broke in the boy, hurriedly.

”I took a bleeding from him, little short of sixteen ounces, from the temporial,” said Billy, proudly, ”and I'll give him now a concoction of meadow saffron with a pinch of saltpetre in it, to cause diaph.o.r.esis, d'ye mind? Meanwhile, we're disgorging the arachnoid membranes with cowld applications, and we're relievin' the cerebellum by repose. I challenge the Hall,” added Billy, stoutly, ”to say is n't them the grand principles of 'traitment.' Ah! young gentleman,” said he, after a few seconds' pause, ”don't be hard on me, because I 'm poor and in rags, nor think manely of me because I spake with a brogue, and maybe bad grammar, for, you see, even a crayture of my kind can have a knowledge of disaze, just as he may have a knowledge of nature, by observation. What is sickness, after all, but just one of the phenomenons of all organic and inorganic matter--a regular sort of s.h.i.+ndy in a man's inside, like a thunderstorm, or a hurry-cane outside? Watch what's coming, look out and see which way the mischief is brewin', and make your preparations.

That's the great study of physic.”

The boy listened patiently and even attentively to this speech, and when Billy had concluded, he turned to the Corporal and said, ”Look to him, Craggs, and let him have his supper, and when he has eaten it send him to my room.”

Billy bowed an acknowledgment, and followed the Corporal to the kitchen.

”That's my lord's son, I suppose,” said he, as he seated himself, ”and a fine young crayture too--_puer ingenuus_, with a grand frontal development.” And with this reflection he addressed himself to the coa.r.s.e but abundant fare which Craggs placed before him, and with an appet.i.te that showed how much he relished it.

”This is elegant living ye have here, Mr. Craggs,” said Billy, as he drained his tankard of beer, and placed it with a sigh on the table; ”many happy years of it to ye--I could n't wish ye anything better.”

”The life is not so bad,” said Craggs, ”but it's lonely sometimes.”

”Life need never be lonely so long as a man has health and his faculties,” said Billy; ”give me nature to admire, a bit of baycon for dinner, and my fiddle to amuse me, and I would n't change with the King of Sugar 'Candy.'”

”I was there,” said Craggs, ”it's a fine island.”

”My lord wants to see the doctor,” said a woman, entering hastily.

”And the doctor is ready for him,” said Billy, rising and leaving the kitchen with all the dignity he could a.s.sume.

CHAPTER III. BILLY TRAYNOR--POET, PEDLAR, AND PHYSICIAN

”Didn't I tell you how it would be?” said Billy, as he re-entered the kitchen, now crowded by the workpeople, anxious for tidings of the sick man. ”The head is re-leaved, the congestive symptoms is allayed, and when the artarial excitement subsides, he 'll be out of danger.”

”Musha, but I 'm glad,” muttered one; ”he 'd be a great loss to us.”

”True for you, Patsey; there's eight or nine of us here would miss him if he was gone.”

”Troth, he doesn't give much employment, but we couldn't spare him,”

croaked out a third, when the entrance of the Corporal cut short further commentary; and the party gathered around the cheerful turf fire with that instinctive sense of comfort impressed by the swooping wind and rain that beat against the windows.

”It's a dreadful night outside; I would n't like to cross the lough in it,” said one.