"Letting some fresh air in for you." Mr. Shubrick was setting wide open both leaves of the casement.
"You mustn't do that. The night air is not good for me. Shut the window."
"You cannot have any air at night _but_ night air," replied Mr.
Shubrick, uttering what a great authority has since spoken, and leaving the window wide open.
"But night air is very bad. I don't want it; do you hear?"
"If you will lie still a minute or two, you will begin to feel that it is very good. It is full of the breath of roses and mignonette, and a hundred other pleasant things."
"But I tell you that's poison!" cried Mr. Copley, beginning to excite himself. "I choose to have the window shut; do you hear me, sir?
Confound you, I want it shut!"
The young man, without regarding this order, came to the bedside, lifted Mr. Copley's head and shook up his pillows and laid him comfortably down again.
"Lie still," he said, "and be quiet. You are under orders, and I am in command here to-night. I am going to take care of you, and you have no need to think about it. Is that right?"
"Yes," said the other, with another grunt half of astonishment and half of relief,--"that's right. But I want the window shut, I tell you."
"Now you shall have your broth. It will be ready presently."
"I don't want any broth!" said the sick man. "If you could get me a glass of wine;--_that_ would set me up. I'm tired to death of these confounded slops. They are nothing for a man to grow strong upon. Never would make a man strong--never!"
Mr. Shubrick made no answer. He was going quietly about the room.
"What are you doing?" said the other presently, watching him.
"Making things ship-shape--clearing decks."
"What do you know about clearing decks?" said Mr. Copley.
"I will show you."
And the sick man watched with languid amusement to see how, as his new nurse went from place to place, the look of the room changed. Shawls and clothing were folded up and bestowed on a chest of drawers; slippers were put ready for use at the bedside; books were laid together neatly on the table; and a small army of cups and glasses and empty vials were fairly marched out of the room. In a little while the apartment was in perfect order, and seemed half as large again. The invalid drew a long breath.
"You're an odd one!" said he, when he caught Mr. Shubrick's eye again.
"Where did you learn all that? and who are you? and how did you come here? I have a right to know."
"You have a perfect right, and shall know all about me," was the answer; "but first, here is your broth, hot and good." (Mr. Shubrick had just received it from the little maid at the door). "Take this now, and to-morrow, if you behave well, you shall have something better."
Mr. Copley suffered himself to be persuaded, took the broth, and then repeated his question.
"I am Sandie Shubrick, lieutenant in the United States navy, on board ship 'The Red Chief;' just now on furlough, and in England."
"What did you come to England for?"
"Business and pleasure."
"Which do you call this you are about now?"
"Both," said Mr. Shubrick, smiling. "Now you may lie still, and keep the rest of your questions for another time."
Mr. Copley yielded, and lay looking at his new attendant, till he dozed off into unconsciousness. Waking then after a while, hot and restless, his nurse brought water and a sponge and began sponging his face and neck and hands; gently and soothingly; and kept up the exercise until restlessness abated, breaths of satisfied content came at easy intervals; and finally Mr. Copley slumbered off peacefully, and knew no more. When he awoke the sun was shining on the oaks of Brierley Park.
The window was open, as it had been all night, and by the window sat Mr. Shubrick, looking out. The sick man eyed him for a while.
"Are you asleep there?" he said at last, growing impatient of the silence. Mr. Shubrick got up and came to him.
"Good morning!" said he. "How have you rested?"
"I believe it's the best night I've had yet. What were you doing to me in the night? using a sponge to me, weren't you? It put me to sleep. I believe it would cure a man of a fever, by Jupiter."
"Not by Jupiter," said Mr. Shubrick. "And you must not say such things while I am here."
"Why not?" Mr. Copley opened his eyes somewhat.
"It is no better than counterfeit swearing."
"Would you rather have the true thing?"
"I never permit either, where I am in authority?"
"Your authority can't reach far. You've got to take the world as you find it."
"I dispute that. You've got to take the world and make it better."
"What do you do where your authority is not sufficient?"
"I go away."
"Look here," said Mr. Copley. "Do you call yourself in authority _here?_"
"Those are the only terms on which I could stay," said Mr. Shubrick, smiling.
"Well, see," said the other,--"I wish you would stay. You've done me more good than all the doctor and everybody else before you."
"I come after them all, remember."
"I wish you had come before them. Women don't know anything. There's my wife,--she would have let the room get to be like a Jew's old clothes shop, and never be aware of it. I didn't know what was choking me so, and now I know it was the confusion. You belong to the navy?"
"I told you so last evening," said Mr. Shubrick, who meanwhile was sponging Mr. Copley's face and hands again and putting him in order generally, so as a sick man's toilet might be made.
"By Jupiter!--I beg your pardon--I believe I am going to get over this, after all," said Mr. Copley "I am sure I shall, if you'll stay and help me."
"I will do it with pleasure. Now, what are you going to have for your breakfast?"
"But, look here. Why should you stay with me? I am nothing to you.
Who's to pay you for it?"
"I do not come for pay; or rather, I get it as I go along. Make yourself easy, and tell me about your breakfast."