Part 18 (1/2)
”She says it is only a bad headache--that all she wants is to be left alone.”
”Yes, yes; that is all very well, but if she does not get better soon she must be seen to. They say that there were several cases last week of that plague that has been doing so much harm in foreign parts, and if that is so it behoves us to be very careful, and see that any illness is attended to without delay.”
”I don't think that there is any cause for alarm,” his wife said quietly. ”The child has got a headache and is a little feverish, but there is no occasion whatever for thinking that it is anything more.
There is nothing unusual in a girl having a headache, but Nellie has had such good health that if she had a p.r.i.c.k in the finger you would think it was serious.”
”By the way, John,” Captain Dave said suddenly, ”did you hear any noise in the lane last night? Your room is at the back of the house, and you were more likely to have heard it than I was. I have just seen one of the watch, and he tells me that there was a fray there last night, for there is a patch of blood and marks of a scuffle. It was up at the other end. There is some mystery about it, he thinks, for he says that one of his mates last night saw a sedan chair escorted by three men turn into the lane from Fenchurch Street just before ten o'clock, and one of the neighbours says that just after that hour he heard a disturbance and a clas.h.i.+ng of swords there. On looking out, he saw something dark that might have been a chair standing there, and several men engaged in a scuffle. It seemed soon over, and directly afterwards three people came down the lane this way. Then he fancied that someone got into the chair, which was afterwards carried out into Fenchurch Street.”
”I did hear something that sounded like a quarrel or a fray,” John Wilkes said, ”but there is nothing unusual about that. As everything was soon quiet again, I gave no further thought to it.”
”Well, it seems a curious affair, John. However, it is the business of the City watch and not mine, so we need not bother ourselves about it. I am glad to see you have got Matthew at work again this morning.
He tells me that he thinks he has fairly got over that sprain in his back.”
CHAPTER VIII
THE CAPTAIN'S YARN
Mindful of the fact that this affair had added a new enemy to those he had acquired by the break-up of the Black Gang, Cyril thought it as well to go round and give notice to the two traders whose books he attended to in the evening, that unless they could arrange for him to do them in the daytime he must give up the work altogether. Both preferred the former alternative, for they recognised the advantage they had derived from his work, and that at a rate of pay for which they could not have obtained the services of any scrivener in the City.
It was three or four days before Nellie Dowsett made her appearance at the general table.
”I can't make out what ails the girl,” her mother said, on the previous evening. ”The fever speedily left her, as I told you, but she is weak and languid, and seems indisposed to talk.”
”She will soon get over that, my dear,” Captain Dave said. ”Girls are not like men. I have seen them on board s.h.i.+p. One day they are laughing and fidgeting about like wild things, the next day they are poor, woebegone creatures. If she gets no better in a few days, I will see when my old friend, Jim Carroll, is starting in his brig for Yarmouth, and will run down with her myself--and of course with you, wife, if you will go--and stay there a few days while he is unloading and filling up again. The sea-air will set her up again, I warrant.”
”Not at this time of year,” Dame Dowsett said firmly. ”With these bitter winds it is no time for a la.s.s to go a-sailing; and they say that Yarmouth is a great deal colder than we are here, being exposed to the east winds.”
”Well, well, Dame, then we will content ourselves with a run in the hoy down to Margate. If we choose well the wind and tide we can start from here in the morning and maybe reach there late in the evening, or, if not, the next morning to breakfast. Or if you think that too far we will stop at Sheerness, where we can get in two tides easily enough if the wind be fair.”
”That would be better, David; but it were best to see how she goes on. It may be, as you say, that she will shortly gain her strength and spirits again.”
It was evident, when Nellie entered the room at breakfast-time the next morning, that her mother's reports had not been exaggerated. She looked, indeed, as if recovering from a severe illness, and when she said good-morning to her father her voice trembled and her eyes filled with tears.
”Tut, tut, la.s.s! This will never do. I shall soon hardly own you for my Nellie. We shall have to feed you up on capons and wine, child, or send you down to one of the baths for a course of strengthening waters.”
She smiled faintly, and then turning, gave her hand to Cyril. As she did so, a slight flush of colour came into her cheeks.
”I am heartily glad to see you down again, Mistress Nellie,” he said, ”and wish you a fair and speedy recovery.”
”I shall be better presently,” she replied, with an effort.
”Good-morning, John.”
”Good-morning, Mistress Nellie. Right glad are we to see you down again, for it makes but a dull table without your merry laugh to give an edge to our appet.i.tes.”
She sat down now, and the others, seeing that it was best to let her alone for a while, chatted gaily together.
”There is no talk in the City but of the war, Cyril,” the Captain said presently. ”They say that the Dutch make sure of eating us up, but they won't find it as easy a job as they fancy. The Duke of York is to command the Fleet. They say that Prince Rupert will be second.