"I'm glad I did now," said Cecil, with a sigh, "though it was a great nuisance sometimes."

"Was the Monk, as you call him, one of that set?"

"Bless you, no, he's a regular sap, as steady as old time."

"I wonder if he is the son of the doctor whom Medlicott talks of."

"No; his father is alive. He is a colonel, living near their place. The other two are the doctor's sons; their mother came into the property after his death. Their Maximus was in college at first, and between ourselves, he was a bit of a sn.o.b, who couldn't bear to recollect it."

"Not your friend?"

"No, indeed. The eldest one, who has left these two years, and is at Christchurch."

"I am sure the one who came down here was a gentleman."

"So they are, all three of them," said Cecil, who had never found his brother so ready to hear anything about his Eton life, since in general accounts of the world, from which he was debarred, so jarred on his feelings that he silenced it with apparent indifference, contempt, or petulance. Now, however, Cecil, with his heart full of the Brownlows, could not say more of them than Fordham was willing to hear; nay, he even found an amused listener to some of his good stories of courageous pranks.

Fordham was not yet up the next morning when there was a knock at his door, and the doctor came in, answering his eager question with--

"Yes, he has got through this night, but another up in that place would be fatal. We must get them down to Leukerbad."

"Over that long precipitous path?"

"It is the only chance. I came down to look up bearers, and rig up a couple of hammocks, as well as to see how you are getting on."

"Oh! I'm very well," said Lord Fordham, in a tone that meant it, sitting up in bed. "We might ride on to Leukerbad with Reeves, and get rooms ready."

"The best thing you could do," said Dr. Medlicott, joyfully. "When we are there we can consider what can be done next; and if you wish to go on, I could look up some one there in whose charge to leave them till they could get advice from home; but it is touch and go with that little fellow."

"I'm in no particular hurry," said Lord Fordham, answering the doctor's tone rather than his words. "I would not do anything hasty or that might add to their distress. Are there likely to be good doctors at this place?"

"It is a great watering-place, chiefly for rheumatic complaints, and that is all very well for the elder boy. As to the little one, he is in as critical a state as I ever saw, and--His mother is an excellent linguist, that is one good thing."

"Yes; it would be very trying for her to have a foreigner to attend the boy in such a state, however skilled he might be," said Lord Fordham.

"I think we might make up our minds to stay with them till they can get some one from England."

Dr. Medlicott caught at the words.

"It rests with you," he said. "Of course I am your property and Mrs.

Evelyn's, but I should like to tell you why this is more to me than a matter of common humanity. I went up to study in London, a simple, foolish lad, bred up by three good old aunts, more ignorant of the world than their own tabby cat. Of course I instantly fell in with the worst stamp of fellows, and was in a fair way of being done for, body and soul, if one of the lecturers, after taking us to task for some heartless, disgusting piece of levity, seeing perhaps that it was more than half bravado on my part and nearly made me sick, managed to get me alone. He talked it out with me, found out the innocent-hearted fool I was, cured me of my false shame at what the good old souls at home had taught me, showed me what manhood was, found a good friend and a better lodging for me, in short, was the saving of me. He died three months after I first knew him, but whatever is worth having in me is owing to him."

"Was he the father of these boys?"

"Yes; I saw a likeness in the nephew who came down yesterday, and I see it in both the others."

"Of course you would wish to do all that is possible for them?"

"I should feel it the greatest honour. Still my first duty is to you, and you have told me that your mother wished you to keep your brother out of the way of his schoolfellow."

"My mother would not wish to deprive her worst enemy of your care in such need as this," said Lord Fordham, smiling. "Besides if this friend of Cecil's were ever so bad, he couldn't do him much harm while he is ill, poor boy. We will at any rate stay to get them through the next few days, and then we can judge. I will settle it with my mother."

"I knew you would say so," rejoined the doctor. "Thank you. Then it seems to me that the right course will be to write to Mrs. Evelyn, inclosing a note to Dr. Lucas--who it seems is Mrs. Brownlow's chief reliance--asking him to find someone to send out. She, can send it on to him if she disapproves of our remaining together longer than is absolutely necessary, or if Leukerbad disagrees with you. Meantime, I'll go and see whether Reeves has found any men to carry the poor boys."

Unfortunately it was too early in the season for the hotels to have marshalled their full establishment, and such careful and surefooted bearers as the sufferers needed could not be had in sufficient numbers, so that Dr. Medlicott was forced to decide on leaving the elder patient for a night at Schwarenbach. The move might be matter of life or death to Armine; but Jock was better, the pain could be somewhat allayed by anodynes, the fever was abating, and he would rather gain than lose by another day of rest, provided he would only accept his fate patiently, and also if he could be properly attended to. If Mr. Graham would stay with him--

So breakfast was eaten, bills were paid, horses hired, and the whole cavalcade started from Kandersteg in time to secure the best part of a bright hot day for the transit.

They met Mr. Graham, who had been glad to escape as soon as Mrs.

Brownlow had found other a.s.sistance, so that the doctor was disappointed in his hope of a guardian for Jock. Lord Fordham offered to lend Reeves, but that functionary absolutely refused to separate himself from his charge, observing--

"I am responsible for your lordship to your mamma, and it does not lie within my province to leave you on any account."

Reeves always called Mrs. Evelyn "your mamma" when he wished to be particularly authoritative with his young gentlemen. If they were especially troublesome he called her "your ma."

"And after all," said the doctor, "I don't know what sort of preparations the young gentlemen would make if we let them go by themselves. A bare room, perhaps--with no bed-clothes, and nothing to eat till the table d'hote"

Reeves smiled. He had found the doctor much less of a rival than he had expected, and he was a kind-hearted man, so long as his young lord was made the first object; so he declared his willingness to do anything that lay in his power for the a.s.sistance of the poor lady and her sons.

He would gladly sit up with them, if it were in the same house with his lordship.

No one came out to meet the party. John was found with Armine, who had been taken back at night to his own room; Mrs. Brownlow, as usual, with Jock, who would endure no presence but hers, and looked exceedingly injured when, sending Cecil in to sit with him, the doctor called her out of the room.

It was a sore stroke on her to hear that her charges must be separated; and there was the harrowing question whether she should stay with one or go with the other.

"Please, decide," she said.

"I think you should be with the most serious case."

"And that, I fear, means my little Armine. Yes, I will do as you tell me. But what can be done for Jock?--poor Jock who thinks he needs me most. And perhaps he does. You know best, though, Dr. Medlicott, and you shall settle it."

"That is a wise nurse," said he, kindly; "I wish I could take your place myself, but I must be with the little fellow myself; and I am afraid we can only leave his brother to your nephew for this one night. Should you be afraid to be sole nurse?" he added, as Johnny came to Armine's door.

"I think I know what to do, if Jock can stand having me," said Johnny, stoutly, as soon as he understood the question.

"Mother!" just then shouted Jock, and as Johnny obeyed the call, he began--"I want my head higher--no--I say not you--Mother Carey!"

"She is busy with the doctor."

"Can't she come and do this? No, I say," and he threw the nearest thing at hand at him.

"Come," said Cecil, "I'm glad you can do such things as that."

But Jock gave a cry of pain, and protested that it was all John's fault for making him hurt himself instead of fetching mother.

"You had better let me lift you," said John, "you know she is tired, and I _really_ am stronger."

"No, you shan't touch me--a great clumsy lout."

In the midst of these amenities, the doctor appeared, and Jock looked slightly ashamed, especially when the doctor, instead of doing what was wanted, directed John where to put an arm, and how to give support, while moving the pillow, adding that he was a handy fellow, more so than many a pupil after half a year's training at the hospital, and smiling down Jock's growls and groans, which were as much from displeasure as from pain. They were followed by some despairing sighs at the horrors of the prospect of being moved.