there pus, your daddy called it. Looked pretty ugly.'
Celeste seemed to be enjoying relating this part of her story, and Ruth wondered how she could handle food without feeling sick. Ruth felt sick, physically sick, and she looked up rather apprehensively when the door opened to admit her father.
'I thought I heard voices.' Professor Jason remarked heavily, weariness etched in every line of his face. 'Celeste, aren't those eggs almost ready? Doctor Francis doesn't have all day.'
'And I don't have more'n one pair of hands,' mumbled the black woman resentfully. They're ready. Go sit yourself down, and I'll fetch them to you.'
Professor Jason permitted his daughter a slight smile. 'Are you coming to join us. my dear?' he asked, gesturing behind him. and aware of Celeste standing impatiently with the tray in her hands, waiting for her reply. Ruth nodded and got to her feet. If she wanted information, why not from the horse's mouth? she thought wryly, ignoring the black woman's knowing stare, although the prospect of watching the two men devour the dish of eggs brought bile to the back of her throat.
Doctor Francis was a man in his early fifties. A Scotsman, he had settled in Kingstown after the last war. and his family had grown up in the islands. He and Ruth's father were good friends, their professional relationship spilling over into a more personal one. At least once a month the medical practitioner came over to the island to play chess with Professor Jason, and even his professional visits lately had become social occasions. Ruth knew he was worried about her father, knew that he saw little hope for the older man, and knew, too. that he worried about her and what she would do after her father was dead.
'Hello-there, lassie,' he greeted her now, his accent still as unmistakable as it had ever been. 'I hear you're responsible for finding our piece of human flotsam on the beach. I think your father wishes yon hadn't taken the trouble.'
Ruth looked at her father, and he quickly demurred. 'I didn't say that. John.' he protested, waving his daughter into a chair. 'I merely said the man's been nothing but trouble ever since he arrived.'
'How is he. Doctor Francis?' asked Ruth eagerly, seating herself at the table. 'Is he going to get better? He's not in any danger, is he?'
Doctor Francis pushed his horn-rimmed spectacles up his nose and surveyed her expectant face with humorous eyes. 'You sound very anxious. Ruth.' he remarked teasingly. 'Has this young man taken your fancy?'
'Don't talk nonsense. John.' Professor Jason's lips thinned, and Celeste, serving the eggs, cast the girl a mocking look. 'Naturally, Ruth is interested. Aren't we all? There's nothing very unusual about that.'
Doctor Francis pulled a wry face, if you say so. Curtis, if you say so.' He turned his attention back to Ruth, who was looking quite mortified now. and smiled encouragingly. 'Mr Howard will survive.' he assured her gently. 'I'd stake my life on it. But he owes his thanks to you for alerting your father as you did.'
Ruth flushed. 'Oh, really—'
'No. I mean it.' Doctor Francis was serious. 'Had he lain unconscious until morning. I doubt I could have saved him. The arm had become infected. If the poison had spread throughout his bloodstream . . .'
'You mean you had to open his arm again?' Ruth's lips quivered.
'It was unavoidable,' said her father shortly. 'Thank you. Celeste. You may leave us. I'll call if we need any more coffee.'
'We had to relieve the pressure,' explained Doctor Francis patiently, as Celeste unwillingly left the room. 'The cavity had to be evacuated and sterilised. There was no other way we could reduce the fever.'
'And now?'
'Now he's sleeping. The fever has greatly subsided. but as you can imagine, some poison did succeed in escaping into his bloodstream. Until his system is free of the infection, he'll continue to run a low temperature. But it's under control.'
Ruth nodded, watching dry-mouthed as Doctor Francis
Celeste seemed to be enjoying relating this part of her story, and Ruth wondered how she could handle food without feeling sick. Ruth felt sick, physically sick, and she looked up rather apprehensively when the door opened to admit her father.
'I thought I heard voices.' Professor Jason remarked heavily, weariness etched in every line of his face. 'Celeste, aren't those eggs almost ready? Doctor Francis doesn't have all day.'
'And I don't have more'n one pair of hands,' mumbled the black woman resentfully. They're ready. Go sit yourself down, and I'll fetch them to you.'
Professor Jason permitted his daughter a slight smile. 'Are you coming to join us. my dear?' he asked, gesturing behind him. and aware of Celeste standing impatiently with the tray in her hands, waiting for her reply. Ruth nodded and got to her feet. If she wanted information, why not from the horse's mouth? she thought wryly, ignoring the black woman's knowing stare, although the prospect of watching the two men devour the dish of eggs brought bile to the back of her throat.
Doctor Francis was a man in his early fifties. A Scotsman, he had settled in Kingstown after the last war. and his family had grown up in the islands. He and Ruth's father were good friends, their professional relationship spilling over into a more personal one. At least once a month the medical practitioner came over to the island to play chess with Professor Jason, and even his professional visits lately had become social occasions. Ruth knew he was worried about her father, knew that he saw little hope for the older man, and knew, too. that he worried about her and what she would do after her father was dead.
'Hello-there, lassie,' he greeted her now, his accent still as unmistakable as it had ever been. 'I hear you're responsible for finding our piece of human flotsam on the beach. I think your father wishes yon hadn't taken the trouble.'
Ruth looked at her father, and he quickly demurred. 'I didn't say that. John.' he protested, waving his daughter into a chair. 'I merely said the man's been nothing but trouble ever since he arrived.'
'How is he. Doctor Francis?' asked Ruth eagerly, seating herself at the table. 'Is he going to get better? He's not in any danger, is he?'
Doctor Francis pushed his horn-rimmed spectacles up his nose and surveyed her expectant face with humorous eyes. 'You sound very anxious. Ruth.' he remarked teasingly. 'Has this young man taken your fancy?'
'Don't talk nonsense. John.' Professor Jason's lips thinned, and Celeste, serving the eggs, cast the girl a mocking look. 'Naturally, Ruth is interested. Aren't we all? There's nothing very unusual about that.'
Doctor Francis pulled a wry face, if you say so. Curtis, if you say so.' He turned his attention back to Ruth, who was looking quite mortified now. and smiled encouragingly. 'Mr Howard will survive.' he assured her gently. 'I'd stake my life on it. But he owes his thanks to you for alerting your father as you did.'
Ruth flushed. 'Oh, really—'
'No. I mean it.' Doctor Francis was serious. 'Had he lain unconscious until morning. I doubt I could have saved him. The arm had become infected. If the poison had spread throughout his bloodstream . . .'
'You mean you had to open his arm again?' Ruth's lips quivered.
'It was unavoidable,' said her father shortly. 'Thank you. Celeste. You may leave us. I'll call if we need any more coffee.'
'We had to relieve the pressure,' explained Doctor Francis patiently, as Celeste unwillingly left the room. 'The cavity had to be evacuated and sterilised. There was no other way we could reduce the fever.'
'And now?'
'Now he's sleeping. The fever has greatly subsided. but as you can imagine, some poison did succeed in escaping into his bloodstream. Until his system is free of the infection, he'll continue to run a low temperature. But it's under control.'
Ruth nodded, watching dry-mouthed as Doctor Francis
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