Yussuf the Guide; Or, the Mountain Bandits. George Manville Fenn

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Yussuf the Guide; Or, the Mountain Bandits - George Manville Fenn

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not charge my expenses to the estate, any more than I shall let you charge yours, sir.”

      “Of course not, sir,” said the professor more coldly still, and beginning to frown.

      “You shall pay your expenses, I’ll pay mine, and young Lawrence here shall pay his; and I tell you what, sir, we three will have a thoroughly good outing. We’ll take it easy, and we’ll travel just where you like, and while you make notes, Lawrence here and I will fish and run about and catch butterflies, eh? Hang it, I haven’t caught a butterfly these three or four and thirty years, and I think it’s time I had a try. Eh, what are you laughing at, sir?”

      Lawrence Grange’s laugh was low and feeble, but it brightened up his sad face, and was contagious, for it made the professor smile as well. The cold stern look passed away, and he held out his hand to the lawyer.

      “Agreed, sir,” he said. “If the doctor gives his consent, we will all three go, and, please Heaven, we will restore our young friend here his health and strength.”

      “Agreed, sir; with the doctor’s consent or without,” cried the lawyer, grasping the extended hand. “By George, we must begin to make our preparations at once! and as for the doctor—Oh, here he is!”

      For there was a double knock, and directly after Mrs. Dunn, appearing very much agitated, ushered in the doctor, who did not look quite so cool as he did when he left.

      “Oh!” he ejaculated, “I was afraid from Mrs. Dunn’s manner that something was wrong.”

      “No, doctor, nothing,” said the lawyer. “We only want to ask you what you think of our young friend here being taken to spend the winter in Turkey.”

      “Admirable!” said the doctor, “if it could be managed.”

      “Oh, Doctor Shorter!” wailed Mrs. Dunn, “I thought you would stop this mad plan.”

      “There, madam, there!” cried the lawyer; “what did I say?”

      “But he is not fit to move,” cried Mrs. Dunn, while the boy’s cheeks were flushed, and his eyes wandered eagerly from speaker to speaker.

      “Only with care,” said the doctor. “I should not take a long sea trip, I think; but cross to Paris, and then go on gently, stopping where you pleased, to Brindisi, whence the voyage would be short.”

      “The very thing!” cried the lawyer, giving one emphatic blow with his nose. “What do you say, professor?”

      “It is the plan I had arranged if I had gone alone,” was the reply; “and I think if Doctor Shorter will furnish us with the necessary medicines—”

      “He requires change more than medicines,” said the doctor. “Care against exertion, and—there, your own common sense will tell you what to do.”

      “Doctor! doctor! doctor!” sobbed Mrs. Dunn; “I didn’t think it of you. What’s to become of me?”

      “You, madam?” replied the doctor. “You can read and write letters to our young friend here, and thank Heaven that he has friends who will take him in charge and relieve him from the risk of another winter in our terrible climate.”

      “Hear, hear!” and “No, no!” cried the lawyer. “Doctor Shorter, ours is not a bad climate, and I will not stand here and listen to a word against it. Look at me, sir! Thirty years in Sergeant’s Inn—fog, rain, snow, and no sunshine; and look at me, sir—look at me!”

      “My dear sir,” said the doctor smiling, “you know the old saying about one man’s meat being another man’s poison? Suppose I modify my remark, and say terrible climate for our young friend. You are decided, then, to take him?”

      “Certainly,” said the professor.

      “To Turkey?”

      “Turkey in Asia, sir, where I propose to examine the wonderful ruins of the ancient Greek and Roman cities.”

      “And hunt up treasures of all kinds, eh?” said the doctor smiling.

      “I hope we may be fortunate enough to discover something worthy of the search.”

      “But, let me see—the climate; great heat in the plains; intense cold in the mountains; fever and other dangers. You must be careful, gentlemen. Brigands—real brigands of the fiercest kind—men who mean heavy ransoms, or chopped-off heads. Then you will have obstinate Turks, insidious and tricking Greeks, difficulties of travel. No child’s play, gentlemen.”

      “The more interest, sir,” replied the professor, “the greater change.”

      “Well,” said the doctor, “I shall drop in every day till you start, and be able to report upon our friend’s health. Now, good day.”

      The doctor left the room with Mrs. Dunn, and as he went out Mr. Burne blew a flourish, loud enough to astonish the professor, who wondered how it was that so much noise could be made by such a little man, till he remembered the penetrating nature of the sounds produced by such tiny creatures as crickets, and then he ceased to be surprised.

       Table of Contents

      A Verbal Skirmish.

      It seemed wonderful: one day in London, then the luggage all ticketed, the young invalid carefully carried by a couple of porters to a first-class carriage, and seated in a snug corner, when one of them touched his cap and exclaimed:

      “Glad to see you come back, sir, strong enough to carry me. Pore young chap!” he said to his mate; “it do seem hard at his time o’ life.”

      “Hang the fellow!” cried the lawyer; “so it does at any time of life. I don’t want to be carried by a couple of porters.”

      Then there was a quick run down to Folkestone, with the patient tenderly watched by his two companions, the professor looking less eccentric in costume, for he had trusted to his tailor to make him some suitable clothing; but the lawyer looking more so, for he had insisted upon retaining his everyday-life black frock-coat and check trousers, the only change he had made being the adoption of a large leghorn straw hat with a black ribbon; on the whole as unsuitable a costume as he could have adopted for so long a journey.

      “But I’ve got a couple of Holland blouses in one of my portmanteaus,” he said to Lawrence, “and these I shall wear when we get into a hotter country.”

      At Folkestone, Lawrence showed no fatigue; on the contrary, when the professor suggested staying there for the night he looked disappointed, and begged that they might cross to Boulogne, as he was so anxious to see France.

      Judging that it was as well not to disappoint him, and certainly advisable to take advantage of a lovely day with a pleasant breeze for the crossing, the professor decided to proceed—after a short conversation between the two elders, when a little distant feeling was removed, for the professor had felt that the lawyer was not going to turn out a very pleasant travelling companion.

      “What

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