That event was the turning-point in Dick Smithson's long illness; and
the words said to him by Anna Deane at her visit convinced him that
there was something worth living for, even if it was only to have won
the respect and friendship of the lady whom he judged now to be the
lieutenant's betrothed.
"I knew it," Jerry said, with a good, open smile, as he was finishing
Dick's toilet. "Nobody knows till they try it what virtue there is in a
shampoo."
That was some few days later, when the lieutenant's servant had gone to
the hospital, as usual, to see how the patient was getting on, and if
anything could be done.
"Rubbish!" cried Dick, who was still very weak; but there was a
different look in his eyes now that was cheering, and it made Jerry rub
his hands.
"All right; you call it rubbish. That's the way of the world. Chap's
dying; doctor gives him the right stuff, and pulls him round; and he
says: `Physic? Rubbish! I should have got right by myself.'"
"I wasn't talking about doctors," said Dick, "but of you and your
shampooing."
"All right, have it your own way; but you began to get better the
morning after the guv'nor brought Miss Deane, and since I shampooed
you."
"Absurd!" cried Dick.
"That's right, stick to it; but I say that when a man's weak and upset,
if he has a good shampoo--I mean a real shampoo, given by anyone who
understands it--he begins to feel better directly. There, it stands to
reason. Even a watch won't go without it's properly cleaned now and
then; so how can you expect it of a human being? But never mind, sir,
you are better, and that's everything. Mind my coming up?"
"Mind? No; I'm glad to see you, Jerry. How is Mr Lacey?"
"Well, I wanted to talk to you about him, sir."
"Not going back, surely?" said Dick, eagerly.
"Well, he is and he isn't, if you can understand that."
"But has the doctor seen him?"
"Wouldn't do no good, if he did, sir. Sort of complaint no doctor
couldn't cure."
"Now, look here, Jerry; do you see that glass of lemonade?"
"See it? Of course."
"Then take warning: if you begin telling me that nothing will do Mr
Lacey any good but a shampoo, I'll throw it at you."
Jerry grinned.
"You are getting better, Dick Smithson, and no mistake," he said; "but
you can drink the stuff, for you won't have to throw it at me, because
shampooing ain't no good for a bit o' gambling--whether it's
horse-racing or cards."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, this, S'Rich--"
"Hush!"
_Slap_!
Jerry gave himself a heavy pat on the mouth.
"Forgot," he muttered. "Look here, sir--I mean Dick Smithson--has Mr
Lacey got plenty of money?"
"I don't know. He must be pretty well-off or he couldn't live as he
does."
"Oh, I don't see that. Lots o' gentry lives in good style and no money
per rannum, as we calls it, at all. But you think he is pretty
well-off?"
"Yes; why are you talking like this?"
"Because he ought to be stopped, or somebody else ought."
"I don't understand you, Jerry. Speak out openly, please."
"Oh, very well, then, I will, even if it costs me my place. You see,
I've burnt my fingers, so that I know," and these words came fast. "I
can't help seeing when anyone's getting into the fire."
"Do you mean, in plain English, Jerry, that Mr Lacey is betting and
gambling?"
"That's just what I do mean, in plain English."
"But it seems impossible, situated as he is."
"With a hangel to take care of him? It do."
"He never seemed to me to be a man who would care for such things."
"More he would if he wasn't led on to it. It is his doing--him, I
mean!"
"My cousin?"
"That's him; and I'm beginning to think you ought to do something as
soon as you're well enough. Speak up, and say who you are and why
you're here."
"They'd call me an impostor, Jerry."
"What, when you've got me for a witness? Not they, sir; I can prove
anything. You ought to do something. You ought indeed."
"Must get well first, Jerry."
"Of course, no one can't be expected to do much when he's weak as you
are. But as soon as you feel strong enough, do pray make a start; and,
just look here, it's your dooty--it is, indeed. If you don't, him as
has shown himself your friend 'll be suffering for it, and if he does,
so will somebody else."
"Let me get well," said Dick, knitting his brows.
"Well, I will; but, look here, if you don't, my conscience won't let me
hold my tongue no longer; I shall speak out myself."
"You wouldn't dare, Jerry, after your promise."
The doctor's visit brought Jerry's to an end, and at last Dick was left
alone to think out his position and what he ought to do.
But he could not plan just then; he was too weak, and his head grew
confused.
"It will have to wait," he said with a sigh. "Everything in the past
seems now like part of a dream, and I'm beginning to feel as if I really
am Dick Smithson, and that I have no right to think anything about Mark.
Yes, my head feels all wrong, and as if that weary time was coming
back. What did the doctor say--that I must sleep all I can? I will."
His eyelids were already drooping from sheer weariness, and a few
minutes later he was lying back fast asleep, with nature working
steadily and well to build up his strength.