I will not weary my reader with any details of his illness. Let it be enough to say that it was long, tedious, and very dangerous. The utmost skill and devotion of the hospital doctors and nurses only sufficed to save his life, after many weeks, as “a brand plucked from the burning.”
And if his illness was long and tedious, his slow convalescence was even longer and more tedious.
Adler and his “neighbor” had been constant in their visits to him, whenever they were allowed to see him.
It was late in December when he had been stricken down. It was late in March when he was reported cured.
He was to have been discharged on Monday morning, but Adler pleaded that he might be let out on Sunday, as on that day he and another friend would be at leisure to take charge of him and see him comfortably installed in his home. Adler’s plea was granted.
Adler and his neighbor both came that day to escort him home.
When he reached his attic room he found everything in good order—a fire lighted in the stove, and materials for a good dinner on hand.
“How is this?” he inquired, turning to his two friends.
“We did it,” said Adler. “But I ought to tell you. Your month wanted a few days of being up when you were stricken down, so when I heard that you were not likely to be out of bed for two months to come, even if then, I took it upon myself, as your next friend, you know, to give up your room to save the rent. And as you had paid in advance, without any promise of giving warning when you wanted to leave, I had no trouble with the agent. And then I and Annie, your neighbor here, moved all your traps into her room for safe keeping. And when we heard that you were to come out this week I went and engaged the room again, and we moved your traps back and fixed it up for you, and here you are.”
“Heaven bless you both,” said Harcourt fervently as he sank into his chair.