A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, KnightStrang, Herbert
History
A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Juvenile fiction
"One sole glass of sherris," said I, with a great show of reluctancy;
"no more, or the merits of this most potent medicine will be utterly
quelled."
He drank the wine with great relish, eyeing the decanter very wistfully
as I set it out of his reach. Then calling for a basin, I poured into
it a little of the contents of my second vial, and dipping the sponge
into the liquid, I delicately anointed his sweating brows, telling him
’twas a sure begetter of sleep tranquil as a child’s.
"Your hand is rather that of a swordsman than of a physician, cousin,"
he said, thereby giving me a wrench in my soul, lest he began to suspect
me. But he proceeded: "Yet it is delicate in its touch as a woman’s;
you give me great comfort, cousin."
I continued to bathe his temples until I had wrought him to a fair
placidity; then admonishing him to be punctual in taking his doses of
the former admixture, I left him, promising to visit him again on the
morrow.
My next concern was to certify myself that Raoul was still among the
galley-slaves, and whether he was of those that remained aboard or of
those that were employed ashore. To this end I dispatched Stubbs to the
sea-wall in the afternoon, a little before the time when, as he had told
me, the day’s work was wont to end, there to keep a watch. He returned
soon after sunset, and told me that he had seen his whilom comrade among
those that were marched into the barracks. I inquired eagerly how he
looked, and my heart was very bitter when he replied that my friend was
worn to a shadow, with lamentable sunken cheeks and haggard eyes.
Nevertheless I rejoiced that he was yet alive, and comforted with this
assurance I bent my mind to the working out of the plan I had devised
for his deliverance.
On the morrow I went somewhat earlier to see my patient, whom I found
wondrously gracious, for that he had slept a good four hours without
waking. Indeed, he believed himself to be already cured, and I had much
ado to persuade him to take his dose. I showed him that his distemper
being of long standing, it was sheer madness to suppose that it could be
wholly banished in so short a space of time, and proceeded to expound
the necessity of continuing not only in the course he had begun, but
also in a subsidiary treatment which I would forthwith explain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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