seemed remote and irrelevant until you saw the matchstick arms of a begging child. He thought of the times when he had put his own considerations aside to help in a crisis, and he knew that were he in the priest’s place he would do the same.
“Yes, I’ll tell Mr. McFaul,” he said, “and I’ll make him understand.”
The room the Lewises had been given at the Bay of Quinte Hotel was clean enough and the bed was soft, but Thaddeus was aware that Luke tossed and turned for most of the night. The next morning they set off to find the warehouse that no longer belonged to the unfortunate man in the timber trade. As Thaddeus took note of the details of McFaul’s new possession, he found that Luke was absent-minded and unfocused on the business at hand. As a result, he was of little help.
Even so, Thaddeus made short work of the task at hand.
“I’ll be finished by the end of the morning tomorrow,” he said. “All that will be left then is to change the locks. I’ll be on my way in the afternoon.”
“What do you think Mr. McFaul will make of his truant priest?” Luke asked.
“I can explain it to him. I don’t think it will be of much concern. Mr. McFaul is a very practical man.”
“I’ve been thinking about the situation here.”
“It’s a dreadful mess, isn’t it?” Thaddeus said. “Before this is finished there will be more sick emigrants than there are people in all of Kingston. It’s difficult to see how they can all be looked after.”
“I’m wondering if I should stay too.”
“Rather than go on to Montreal?”
“I’d learn a great deal of medicine here, I expect. And they could certainly use another volunteer.”
Thaddeus was unsurprised by this announcement. He had already known what Luke was considering. He took a long appraising look at this son before he spoke.
“Yes, you could learn a great deal here, but it will also be far more dangerous for you. Surgery and physicking and leeching is a mild enough enterprise when you’re sitting in a lecture hall with a professor. It’s another thing entirely to dive into a mess and be up to your elbows in blood and filth.”
“You’ve done it.”
“Yes, I have,” Thaddeus said, “when circumstances dictated. It’s hard to turn your back when men are screaming in pain. But that was in battle, and their wounds were no threat to me. These people have a malignant fever. It’s no contagion to shrug off with a poultice or a posset. You’d be taking a great risk.”
“I can’t in all conscience do anything else,” Luke said. “Not after what I saw yesterday.”
“Ah, the Lewis conscience. It makes itself apparent at the most awkward of times, doesn’t it? Well, you’re a grown man, Luke. I haven’t made your decisions for you for quite a long time now. If you’ve truly considered the possible consequences, all I can say is that you have my blessing, and I have to admit that if I were a younger man I would do the same.”
“Thank you.”
“I would stay even so,” Thaddeus said, “except that my duty lies with your mother now. That’s a decision I made when she fell so ill.”
“I know that,” Luke replied. “And your decision makes mine all the easier. Besides, you’ve done more than your share over the years. Time to pass the banner on.”
Thaddeus smiled. “At least I feel that I’m passing it to worthy hands.” He felt a tremendous pride that his youngest son had such a profound sense of responsibility. But he had never before felt so old.
Chapter 8
Early the next afternoon, after having seen his father off on a steam packet that was returning up the lake, Luke walked along Brock Street to the Hôtel Dieu.
He wasn’t sure who he should talk to, or why he was going to the Catholic hospital, except that he had been impressed by Father Higgins’s declaration of commitment to his ailing parishioners and it appeared that the nuns had instituted a routine that lent at least a little organization to the chaos that engulfed them.
As he entered the building, he was once again struck by the sheer numbers of people the Sisters were looking after, and by the stench that resulted from cramming so many fevered bodies into one small space. He held his breath as much as he could while he searched the rooms for someone to talk to.
Finally, at the end of the hall, he found a black-clad nun in a tiny closet that had been set aside as the hospital’s dispensary. Her face was wrinkled in concentration as she counted the very small number of vials on the makeshift shelves and then made a notation in a large leather-bound book.
“Excuse me,” Luke said, knocking on the open door. “My name is Luke Lewis, and I would like to offer my services as a volunteer.”
He was rewarded with a tight smile, although it did nothing to smooth out the worry lines on the nun’s face.
“Good afternoon. I am Sister Bourbonnière. You are most welcome. As you can see around you, we ’ave far more patients than we ever expected.” Her English was heavily accented, but easily understood.
“I have no formal training in medicine,” Luke said, “but I do have a great deal of experience in rough and ready doctoring.”
“No formal training is necessary, nor is it ’elpful,” she replied. “The doctors appear to ’ave little idea what to do. Our function is to make our patients as comfortable as we can under the circumstances. The rest is in God’s ’ands.”
“I’ll do whatever is required, but I would like the opportunity to observe the doctors, if that’s possible.”
She nodded. “We share our resources with the English ’ospital, although the Female Benevolent Society does most of the feeding and so forth there. Our primary duty is to the people in the ’otel, but the sheds are now full too. We share the nursing for these, and it is at the sheds that you would be most useful. There is a priest there …”
“Father Higgins? Yes, I met him yesterday.”
“Then you must go to the sheds and ask for Father ’iggins. ’E will tell you what is most needed.”
And with a slight smile, she turned back to her ledger.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона,
