The Gold Seekers (The Australians Book 13) by Vivian Stuart

Author:Vivian Stuart [Stuart, Vivian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skinnbok
Published: 2023-04-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER VII

It seemed only a few minutes after he had dozed off that Red’s peace was rudely shattered. A hand was shaking him by the shoulder, and a woman’s voice, distraught and tearful, was calling him by name, beseeching him to waken. He struggled to sit up, blinking in the light from the open porthole, his brain still misted by sleep but every instinct rebelling against the unexpected presence of Captain Lucas’s young wife in his cabin.

“For the Lord’s sake, ma’am!” he protested wrathfully. “You should not have sought me out here. You could have sent for me. Any of my officers or my steward would have conveyed a message, and I’d have come to you.”

Dora Lucas’s tears were redoubled. Red, scrambling awkwardly from his bunk, saw that her small, piquant face was blotched and swollen, her blue eyes red-rimmed from weeping. Reluctant to touch her, lest the gesture be misinterpreted, he waved in the direction of the bunk he had vacated, and as he hastily donned his shirt and trousers, he gruffly urged her to sit down.

“Try to compose yourself, Mrs. Lucas, and then tell me what is wrong and how I can be of service to you.”

She sat down on the disordered bunk, trembling visibly. “I did try to—to send for you,” she defended. “But they told me you were too occupied on deck to—to be disturbed. And Francis De Lancey said there was some damage that—”

“You’ve been seeing Lieutenant De Lancey?” Red accused, a sharp edge to his voice.

Dora Lucas ignored the question; indeed, Red thought she did not appear to hear it.

“It’s my—my husband, Captain Lucas,” she told him, her voice high-pitched and agitated. “He—he is seriously ill, and I don’t know what to do for him. He has a high fever, Captain Broome, and at—at times he doesn’t talk lucidly. And I’ve had no experience of—of sick people, none at all. I simply don’t know how to help him.”

“We carry a surgeon’s mate,” Red reminded her. “Jonathan Brown. Did you not send for him?”

Dora wrung her hands despairingly. “Oh, yes, I did. He gave a purge and put leeches on the captain’s chest...” She shuddered. “Dreadful, hateful things! But he’s worse, and he’s rambling more. I—oh, please, will you come and see for yourself the state he’s in? I—I’m afraid that he—that he may die, Captain Broome.”

Red gave his assent with some reluctance. Although conscientious, the young surgeon’s mate was, Red knew, inexperienced and more accustomed to treating seamen’s injuries and ills than serious medical conditions, such as that Captain Lucas’s wife had described. His fears were confirmed when, a few minutes later, he entered the cabin in which the sick man lay and saw young Brown attempting unsuccessfully to administer a dose to his patient.

Lucas looked terrible. His normally plump red face was devoid of colour, his lips were blue, and his breathing was rasping and laboured, and despite Brown’s attempts to lift him, he seemed to lack the strength even to raise his head.

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