“You weren’t very well. You had better lie quiet a little,” said Railsford.
The invalid made no attempt to get up, but lay back on the pillow and moaned.
“Open the window,” said he, “the room’s so hot.”
Railsford made believe to obey him, and waited anxiously for the doctor. It seemed as if he would never arrive.
It was a strange position for the Master of the Shell, here at the bedside of the captain of his rival’s house, the only occupant with him of the great deserted school. He had reckoned on spending a very different day. He was to have seen Daisy once more that afternoon, and the foolish young couple had been actually counting the minutes till the happy meeting came round. By this time he would have been in the train whizzing towards her, with all the troubles of the term behind him, and all the solaces of the vacation ahead. To-morrow, moreover, was the day of the University Boat-Race, and he, an old “Blue,” had in his pocket at that moment a ticket for the steamer which was to follow the race. He was to have met scores of friends and fought again scores of old battles, and to have dined with the crews in the evening!
What was to become of all these plans now? He was absolutely a prisoner at this poor fellow’s bedside. He did not know his address at home, or where to send for help. Besides, even if he could discover it, it would be twenty-four hours at least before he could hand over his charge into other hands.
These selfish regrets, however, only flashed through Railsford’s mind to be again dismissed. He was a brave man, and possessed the courage which, when occasion demands, can accept a duty like a man. After all, was it not a blessing his cab had not come five minutes earlier than it had? Suppose this poor sufferer had been left with no better guardian than the brusque Mrs Phillips, with her scruples about “catching” disorders?
The doctor’s trap rattled up to the door at last. He was one of those happy sons of Aesculapius who never pull long faces, but always say the most alarming things in the most delightful way.
“Ah,” said he, hardly glancing at the patient, and shaking hands airily with Railsford, “this is a case of the master being kept in, and sending to the doctor for his exeat, eh? Sorry I can’t give it to you at present, my dear fellow; rather a bad case.”
“What is it?” asked Railsford.