Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece Part 119

In the course of two or three minutes the man returned, accompanied by the s.h.i.+p's surgeon.

"A stowaway on board the 'Westward Ho!'" said the doctor, as he entered the hold; "I should sooner have expected to find one on board a man-of- war."

"Examine him, please, doctor," said Harkaway anxiously, "and let us know how he is."

The doctor made no reply, but proceeded without any fuss or demonstration to feel the sick man's pulse.

"Very low," he said; "in a bad way. We must get him up out of this place, for it is enough to choke a black."

He was tended as carefully as if he had been one of their best friends, instead of the bitterest, the most treacherous of their enemies; and, strange to relate, Jack Harkaway appeared not a little concerned about the villain's welfare.

"Do you think that there is any danger?" he asked.

"Immediate, do you mean, sir?" said the doctor.

"Yes."

"Humph! I can scarcely say. Not exactly immediate, perhaps, if care be taken."

"You think he will live?"

"Unless the fever which has set in should take an unfavourable turn. He is const.i.tutionally strong."

"I know that."

The doctor looked at Harkaway in some surprise.

"You are a bit of a doctor, Mr. Harkaway?"

Jack smiled.

"A very small bit," he answered; "only I have known this man nearly all my life."

"Indeed!"

The doctor's manner invited confidence, and it was quite clear that his curiosity had been awakened.

Harkaway thought it over quickly and quietly, and he came to the conclusion that he could not do better than let the doctor partic.i.p.ate in the secret.

"You are surprised that an old acquaintance of mine should be here on board my s.h.i.+p, lurking and skulking as a stowaway?"

"Well," answered Doctor Anderson, in a constrained manner, "if I confess the honest plain truth, I am."

"It is simple enough; the man did not know that he was on my vessel, or it would be about the last vessel in the world he would have chosen for refuge."

"Refuge?"

"Yes; refuge is the word. Now I am the worst man in the world at half confidences. Tell me, are you a good man to keep a secret, doctor?"

"I am."

"Then I may tell you something that will rather startle you."

"You will?"

"Yes. That poor wretch you have the charge of is the worst enemy that I have. It is my old schoolfellow, Hunston."

"Hunston!"

"Yes. You remember the name, I perceive."

"I do. But is it possible that the villain has the audacity to venture here?"

"No; that is just what he would not do. He took to the water, being hardly pressed by his enemies."

"Why, if your men knew who it was, they would tear him piecemeal."

"Exactly; and that's what I wanted to speak of to you, doctor. We must take every care not to let them know."

"Really, you are as careful of him as though he were a cherished friend."

"Not quite," answered Harkaway; "only I don't care to drop on a helpless enemy, even such a viper as this Hunston."

"But he is such an utterly bad lot."

"True; and I should not feel the slightest compunction at taking his life in a tussle, in a fair stand-up fight; but what I can't do, is taking a man's life when he is helpless at my mercy."

The doctor saw that Harkaway did not wish to discuss it further, and so he contented himself with obeying orders; and so Hunston got restored to health in the s.h.i.+p of his old schoolfellow, the man whom he had injured most deeply.

Care and skill of the first description were lavished upon him.

But for this, Hunston would probably have languished and died wretchedly upon the coast of Greece, unless an accident had thrown him into the power of the authorities.

In that case, his destiny would have been speedily accomplished.

His end--the scaffold.

CHAPTER XLVI.

HUNSTON'S PROGRESS--MISGIVINGS--THE WARNINGS FROM THE GRAVE.

"Mr. Harkaway."

"Doctor."

"A word with you, if convenient, sir."