But he paid no heed to her words. They fell on unconscious cars. He went on talking rapidly; but she could not understand what he was saying. As she bent nearer, she could catch a few words now and then; but there seemed no connection in them.
"The river—it's cold and deep—there's a little girl on the other side—Oh, the pain—the awful, burning pain!—Oh, water—give me water—there's water in the river—I don't care if he is my brother. Give me water—water, I say. What are you telling me about the money?—It's mine—I have a perfect right to it. Oh, this pain! The water—the river."
"Lor' bless me! He's right off 'is 'ead," said Mrs. Wiggins; "'e's in a raging fever. It's no good speakin' to 'im. I must just fetch a doctor, whether 'e likes it or not."
A little later, a doctor stood beside Michael's bed. He pronounced it a severe case of rheumatic fever, made some inquiries respecting the circumstances of his patient, prescribed for him and departed, saying that he would send a nurse to look after him, since he needed good nursing more than medicine. The doctor showed his wisdom in so acting, for had Michael been left to the tender mercies of Mrs. Wiggins, well-meaning though they were, he would probably never have risen from his bed. As it was, he had a hard struggle ere the force of life within him overcame the power of disease. He was very ill, and at one time, the medical man had but faint hope of his recovery.
He was confined to his bed for weeks, and the little book-shop remained closed the while, for Michael was far too ill to give any directions as to what should be done about the business. After the fever left him, he was as weak as a baby: too weak to care about anything, so weak that every effort was painful, and he felt as if he had not the heart to struggle back to life again. Yet he shrank from the thought of death, and one of the first questions he asked his nurse, when he was able to think and speak connectedly, was if she thought he would recover.
"Yes," she said cheerfully, "you've turned the corner now. All you need is feeding up. Every day will see a change for the better now, if you're good and do as I tell you."
"I'll try," said Michael, quite meekly. "You've been very good to me, nurse."
"I should be a poor kind of nurse, if I hadn't been good to you," she replied. "It's my business to look after people when they're ill, and I have to take the greatest possible care of them, or things would go seriously wrong."
"I never had any one do as much for me as you've done," said Betts; "not since I lost my mother, I mean."
"Then you never had a wife?"