The man nodded, but did not unclose his eyes, and Clifford, after turning the gas low, went quietly out, taking care to close the door softly after him.
The next morning on inquiring at the door regarding the squire's condition before going to his business, he was told by the landlady that he had slept but little, and was suffering very much, both from the sprain and a high fever, for he had evidently taken a severe cold.
Clifford went up to his room and tried to persuade him to have medical advice, but the man curtly refused to do so; and after doing what little he could for his comfort, he was obliged to leave him to himself.
He found him even worse on his return at night, and he spent most of the evening with him, bathing the injured ankle, rubbing it thoroughly with a liniment which he had procured of a druggist, and afterward rebandaging it as deftly as if he were accustomed to such duties. He also bathed the man's fevered face and hands, and he seemed much refreshed afterward.
The squire did not submit to these operations with a very good grace at first, but Clifford had assumed a masterful air, and went straight ahead as if he had a perfect right to do so, and was so gentle and handy that before he was through he could see that the squire's antagonism to his presence was merging into a sort of helpless reliance upon him.
He had brought some lemons with him, and with these he made a small pitcher of lemonade, some of which the sufferer drank with thirsty relish, the remainder being left where he could easily reach it. Clifford felt very reluctant to leave him alone, for he saw that he was very ill; but the squire bade him go, saying that he was all right, and he felt obliged to obey him.
He did not feel wearied or like sleeping after reaching his own room, and, having a new book, he read until very late, retiring just as the clock in a room below struck the half-hour after twelve.
He fell asleep almost immediately; but suddenly—it seemed as if he could hardly have lost himself—he was aroused by hearing the rapid "chug-chug" of a steam fire-engine close by and a perfect babel of voices in the street below him.
He sprang from his bed and rushed to a window, and was appalled to see smoke and flame issuing from both the door and windows of the adjoining house, which he had left only a few hours previous. His first thought was for Squire Talford, who was on the third floor, and who, in his crippled condition, would find it very difficult to get out of the burning building.
He hurriedly threw on some clothing; then dashed down-stairs and out of doors. The entire lower floor of the burning house was in flames. The fire had started in the basement, and had gained great headway before it was discovered.