Jack Harkaway and His Son's Escape from the Brigands of Greece - BestLightNovel.com
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"Certainly, doctor," returned old Jack.
And they walked on deck together.
"It is only concerning the patient."
"What of him?"
"There is something concerning that mechanical arm which completely baffles me. It is poisoned, I fear."
"You astonish me," said Harkaway.
While they were talking this over, young Jack dropped into the cabin.
Now, the boy knew better than anybody the history of the mechanical arm.
It will not be forgotten by the reader that the death of Robert Emmerson occurred on board the pirate vessel during the captivity of young Jack Harkaway and Harry Girdwood.
Although so many adventures have been gone through since then, you can not have forgotten that during their captivity Hunston and Toro had striven might and main to compa.s.s the poor boy's destruction.
It is needless to recall to the reader's recollection that it was during that time that this wondrous work was perfected by Robert Emmerson, and that during that time his work was the indirect cause of his death.
The legend of the steel arm was not forgotten by the boys.
"This arm was made by the notorious Protean Bob," said young Jack to his father. "You remember Protean Bob?"
"Yes."
"He was a highly-skilled mechanician, it appears, and that he gave himself thoroughly up to the manufacture of this arm."
"It is certainly a marvellous piece of work," said Doctor Anderson.
"The strangest part of the story is," said young Jack, "that only the inventor knows the exact working of it, and that there is concealed in the springs something deadly to avenge the inventor should the wearer of the arm ever prove wanting in grat.i.tude. And Hunston, as you know--"
"Never troubled anyone with grat.i.tude."
"No, indeed," said Doctor Anderson, reflectively; "the strangest part of that is, he never misses an opportunity of railing against you."
"Against me!" said Harkaway.
"Ungrateful ruffian!" exclaimed Harvey, who entered just as this was spoken.
"He thinks when he gets well, you will take his life, for he is still ignorant of the boys being here, or of their lives being saved," said the doctor.
"I see, I see," said young Jack; "he doesn't know that we escaped the death which he fancied so sure. He ought to suffer for that."
"Hus.h.!.+" said old Jack: "he is punished enough already."
"Not quite. I don't think he could be punished enough," said Harry Girdwood.
"Nor I."
"Stop, stop," said Harkaway, seriously; "I have suffered more than all of you, at the hands of this man, and if I can forgive him, surely you can,"
Now, as Hunston gained strength, his old evil pa.s.sions returned in their full force.
The nurses appointed to attend his bedside, were the two sailors who had rescued him from a watery grave, honest Joe Basalt and his friend Jack Tiller.
These two bluff tars had been appointed to the post for reasons which the reader will readily comprehend.
They had received a long lesson from old Jack and from the doctor too.
They were forbidden to mention certain matters, and although Hunston would wheedle and cross-examine with the skill of an Old Bailey lawyer, he quite failed to get any information from them.
"At any rate," exclaimed the patient, in utter despair, "you don't mind telling me whither we are bound."
"Oh, yes, I do," returned Joe Basalt, who was on duty for the time being.
"Why?"
"Can't tell."
"You don't think that Harkaway means to--"
"Mister Harkaway, if you please," interrupted Joe Basalt, surlily.
"Well then, Mr. Harkaway," said Hunston, impatiently.
"That's better."
"You don't think that he means to hand me over to the authorities at the nearest port, do you?"
Joe was mum.
"Eh?"
Not a word.
Hunston still remained in ignorance of the presence of the boys--aye, even of their very existence.
"Ma.s.sa Jack," said Sunday to our youthful hero, one morning, "we often gib poor old Daddy Mole a teasing, sir, a frightening."
Young Jack grinned.