"Then get a magic wallah," suggested Nani, "they are clever and good, and give no trouble."
"The police are very sharp now," urged Nicky, "they have discovered lots of things, thanks to Salwey. Why not have Salwey up? I will go and fetch him!"
"Salwey!" screamed his mother, "who asks your advice?—and the milk not dry on your lips. Send for Salwey"—and she looked around her fiercely—"I would just as soon send for the devil!" and with this formidable announcement, she quitted the room.
CHAPTER XX
The rains were unusually late, and continued unabated till to the end of September, with brief intervals of steamy heat. It was owing to this circumstance that the "new Miss Chandos," as she was called, was such a long time recovering her strength: in spite of her grandmother's unflagging attendance, she appeared to have arrived at a certain point of convalescence and there stuck fast. Sickness had brought an obliteration of her troubles, but she was still sunk in a gulf of weakness.
Mrs. Lopez plied her with her most potent remedies (she was acquainted with some of the subtle herbs and invaluable native secrets unknown to the European pharmacopœia), and several of her hitherto infallible charms, without any obvious result. The truth was that the old woman had to contend with the young girl's will—Verona had no desire to recover. One afternoon as she lay in a sort of apathetic languor, listening to the rain streaming down the gutters, pouring on the stone verandah and beating on the big banana leaves with a steady "Drum, drum, drum," her Nani entered a little wet and out of breath, carrying some small object in her hand.
"Aré! Bai! see what I have got for thee! a baby squirrel to keep thee company. We found him just now, washed out of the nest; all his sisters and brothers are drowned, but the life is yet in him."
As she spoke Nani unfolded a morsel of red flannel and proudly displayed a half-drowned squirrel (it looked like the proverbial rat). She was about to hand it to Verona, who drew back with an instinctive shudder, but when two little black eyes, full of terror, met her own, she took the creature and proceeded to dry it very gently, and then cover up the small, shivering body.
"Oh, ho! we will call him 'Johnny,' and make him a pet," announced Nani, who presently fetched a bit of sponge and some warm milk and proceeded to feed him. She was wonderfully expert in rearing nondescript orphans, such as kids, kittens and young parrots.
Warmed and fed, Johnny crept up the sleeve of Verona's flannel jacket, and there slept the sleep of exhausted infancy. For the first day or two he was weakly and timid, and whenever he was startled immediately sought refuge up Verona's sleeve! But he throve; he was promoted from a bit of sponge to an egg-spoon and a morsel of rice, and in a short time Johnny began to realise himself, to flit about the room, to dress his fur and to take an interest in his personal appearance! And Johnny gave Verona something to think of, and attract her thoughts outwards; he did her ten times more good than her grandmother's most warranted charm. She and Johnny had something in common; and when she felt the forlorn little animal trembling in her sleeve, she recognised that here was a fellow sufferer, who, like herself, was despairing and desolate in the midst of unfamiliar surroundings. Verona and Johnny became fast friends; at the sound of her call he would dart to her side, no matter how absorbing his occupation. He was seeing the great big world for the first time from the splendid vantage ground of a back verandah!