I Went Into
My Bed Under A Load Of Thick Covering, And When The Morning Came,
And I Asked Myself How I Was, I Found That I Was Thoroughly Well.
I was very anxious to procure, if possible, some medical advice for
Mysseri, whose illness prevented my departure.
Every one of the
European practising doctors, of whom there had been many, had
either died or fled. It was said, however, that there was an
Englishman in the medical service of the Pasha who quietly remained
at his post, but that he never engaged in private practice. I
determined to try if I could obtain assistance in this quarter. I
did not venture at first, and at such a time as this, to ask him to
visit a servant who was prostrate on the bed of sickness, but
thinking that I might thus gain an opportunity of persuading him to
attend Mysseri, I wrote a note mentioning my own affair of the sore
throat, and asking for the benefit of his medical advice. He
instantly followed back my messenger, and was at once shown up into
my room. I entreated him to stand off, telling him fairly how
deeply I was "compromised," and especially by my contact with a
person actually ill and since dead of plague. The generous fellow,
with a good-humoured laugh at the terrors of the contagionists,
marched straight up to me, and forcibly seized my hand, and shook
it with manly violence. I felt grateful indeed, and swelled with
fresh pride of race because that my countryman could carry himself
so nobly.
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