ON THE BRINK OF A CHASM.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 3277, 24 July 1911, Page 3

ON THE BRINK OF A CHASM.

I RECORD OF PLOT AND PASSIO (By L. T. Meade, author of “A Sou of Ishmael,” etc.) CHAPTER IV. 1 ' ~ A POST ORBIT. Pelham sat with the boy for about an hour. The nurse came in and turned off the electric light. She lit a I lamp in a distant part of the room, ' and shaded it, then she approached the bedside on tip toe. “How is the boy now?” asked Pelham in a whisper. “He is very ill,” said the woman. “He ought to have his medicine soon.” “But yon won’t wake him for it,” said Dcik. “I am sorry, but I must in this case. The boy must have his medicine regularly: it is a heart stimulant.” “Well let me give it to him,” said Dick. “You may if you like,” whispered the nurse. “Come into the dressingroom. I will give you the glass, and you must raise his head a little and whisper to him. He’ll open his eyes and drink it, and then go off to sleep again.” As the nurse spoke, she opened a bottle of medicine,' measured out a dose carefully, and gave it to the young man. He took it into the sick room, and, placing it on a table, bent down over the little patient. The boy was sleeping, starting now and then in his sleep, now and then muttering a word. “Dick, I’m glad you are with me— I’d like you to be Sir Dick, it would sound so pretty, so pretty.” “Wake up, Piers,” said his cousin. The moment lie spoke the child opened his eyes. “It is time for your medicine, little chap.” “Oh I hate that nasty stuff,” said the boy, shuddei'ing and tux'ning his head away. “But you’ll drink it for me, because you .are a brave little lad.” “I don’t want it, I’d rather die.” “Nonsense, Piers, folly!” “But if I died you’d be Sir Dick.” “And I should hate it,” said Dick. “You’d hate it?” said the boy. “Why you’d be the king then.” “I’d hate it all the same. I want you to live. I love you, little chap. Now ’ open your mouth, drink this off. Ah, that’s a good boy.” The child swallowed the medicine. “It doesn’t taste like the last,” he said; “it’s sticky and rather sweet. I’d rather have the old medicine.” “Sweet and sticky,” said nurse Ives, who came into the room just then. “It ought not to be, for there’s nothing either sweet or sticky in it. What do you mean, child? Give me the glass, please, Mr. Pelham.” She dipped in her finger and tasted the dregs. “It is queer,” she said. “I wonder what is the matter with it. It ought not to taste like this.” , She went out of the room, closing the door after her. Pelham paid no heed to her words. He was not thinking out the medicine, he was disturbed and anxious about Piers. After a time the child dropped off to sleep again, and then the young man stole to the door. “I’m going away now, nurse,” he said. “I’ll look in to-morrow.” Pelham went downstairs, file draw-ing-room door was open. Mrs Pelham stood on the threshold. “Well, Dick, well?” she said eage'ly. “What do you think of him?” “I think he is rather bad. if you ask me,” sa>d Pelham. “There is a great change in him. If I were you Pd call in other advice.” “That is what Luke said.' He said we ought to have another doctor. I am afraid he thinks badly of the case.” “I’d have in another doctor, and take him out of Tarbot’s hands,” said Dick. “What, give up Dr. Tarbot, the child’s guardian! Dick, you are talking nonsense.” 9 ‘•‘Nonsense or not, if the boy were mine I’d do it,” said Pelham. “I dont’ like Tarbot. I never pretended to. I don’t like that nurse either.” “But Dr. Tarbot says she is the very best nurse on his staff.” “All the same, I don’t like her. I’d have somebody else and I’d have a new doctor. That is my advice, but of course you won’t, take it.” “I couldn’t, my dear Dick. I couldn’t offend Dr. Tarbot. It would be madness. Oh, what a confused, helpless state I feel in—my darling child,- my only one! You don’t think that he is ■in danger?” “Oh, I don’t go so far as that,” said Pelham. “I’ll call in again in the morning, and I’ll send Barbara round.”. “He loves Barbara, he Would like to see her,” said Mrs Pelham. “Give my love to her, Dick. Dick, is it true .—are you engaged to Barbara?” “Yes, worse luck,” was the reply. - “Why do you say worse luck?” “Because we cannot marry. I am as poor as a church mouse, and she has nothing. But there, Mrs Pelham, I am a selfish brute to talk of my own affairs just now. I hope little Piers will

be better in the morning. Good night.” As soon - as Dick had gone Mrs Pelhanv went softly upstairs. She opened the' door of the sick room and stole in. The boy, excited and restless, heard her. He called to her to come to him. “Is he worse, nurse?” asked Mrs Pelham. “No, madam, nothing of the kind,” said the nurse. “Please go away, madam, you are only exciting him.” ‘Wes, you had better go away, you are only exciting me,” repeated Piers. “I want Dick to stay with me. You are too anxious. I hear it in your voice. Please go away, mother.” Mrs Pelham went very slowly out of the room. When the last echo of her steps had died away, nurse Ives locked the door. . Then she turned on the electric light. , “What are you doing now?” asked the sick child, raising himself on his elbow. “I mean to send you to sleep.” “Like you did last night?” “Yes, like I did last night. Didn’t you like it?” “I was a little—afraid,” said the boy slowly. He looked anxiously round the room—“I wish—Dick were—here,” he said again, “or—or mother. I was a little afraid.” And now his eyes, luminous and troubled, were fixed upon the cold, inscrutable face of the redhaired nurse. “There is nothing to frighten you, child, quite the contrary,” said the nurse. “You must just lie quiet and fix your eyes on me.” , “I don’t want that bright light,” said the child. “Never mind the light—don’t think of it. I want to send you off to sleep.” “Why don’t you give me something to send me to sleep? When mother had bad toothache the doctor gave her something out of a bottle and she went to sleep. I wish you’d give me something out of a bottle. I don’t like to go to sleep your way.” “Mine is a much, much better way. Now you’ll do what I tell you. Give me both your hands.” “I—l won’t,” said the child, struggling and beginning to cry feebly. “I am going to stroke your forehead quite gently, and you shall look in my eyes,” said the nurse. “Don’t look away. See, I’m going to comfort you.” The boy fidgeted and tried to shut his eyes. He looked determined and obstinate. (To be Continued.)