Chapter 62

The aftermath of all this was, in the course of the next two weeks, the arrival at Pryor’s Cove of Dr. James, who, seeing Cowperwood resting comfortably in a bedroom overlooking the Thames, paused to observe:

“Well, Frank, I see that you’re not so ill that you can’t enjoy the beautiful view through these windows. I’m half-inclined to suggest that you get up and hurry over to New York and let me stretch out here until I recover from my labors of getting here. I’ve been dying for a vacation for years.”

“Didn’t you enjoy your trip over? ” asked Cowperwood.

“I never welcomed a change more in my life. It was beautiful. The sea was calm and there was a minstrel troupe aboard that entertained me enormously. They were headed, if you please, for Vienna, and half of them were Negroes.”

“Same old Jeff! ” commented Cowperwood. “My, what a pleasure it is to see you again! If I have wished once, I have wished a score of times that you were over here and could study some of the oddities of these English! ”

“Bad as all that, are they? ” said James, amusedly. “But suppose you tell me the story of all this from the beginning. Where were you, and why were you arrested? ”

Whereupon Cowperwood slowly and carefully proceeded to recite the incidents of his life and labor since he had returned from Norway, together with the opinions of Dr. Wayne and the specialists.

“And that’s why I wanted you to come over, Jeff, ” he concluded. “I knew you would tell me the truth. The specialists said it might be Bright’s disease. In fact, they said I might not live more than a year and a half at the most, although Dr. Wayne did say that the conclusions of specialists are not necessarily always correct.”

“Right! ” said Dr. James, emphatically.

“Dr. Wayne’s opinion, of course, ” continued Cowperwood, “may have given me a false sense of security, for it wasn’t so very long after that I did quite some celebrating, at Lord Stane’s place, and that brought on the disturbing incident I have described to you. I found myself suddenly very short of breath and had to be helped from the room. It’s made me rather doubtful of Dr. Wayne’s diagnosis. But now that you are here, I expect to be told the truth and put on the right track.”

At this point Dr. James stepped forward and put both hands on Cowperwood’s chest.

“Now show me how deep you can breathe, ” he said, and after Cowperwood’s best effort in that direction, the doctor said: “Ah, I see, a little dilation of the stomach. I shall have to leave you something for that.”

“Does it look as though I have a fatal disease, Jeff? ”

“Not so fast, Frank. After all, I have to make some examinations. But I can say this: you have already seen two doctors and three specialists, and you’ve learned that it might cause your death or it might not cause your death. As you know, there’s always a wide margin between the possible and the impossible, between the certain and the uncertain, and there’s always a wide margin between sickness and health. But looking at you here now, and taking into consideration your general physical tone, I think you are likely to be around here for some months yet, maybe for several years. You must give me time to work on you, to think out what is best for you. In the meantime, tomorrow morning, fairly early, I’ll be back here to make a complete physical examination.”

“Wait a minute! ” exclaimed Cowperwood. “My orders are that you’re to stay here with us, with me and my ward, Miss Fleming, and her mother.”

“It’s very good of you, Frank, to ask me, but I can’t stay today. It just so happens that there are one or two drugs I’ll have to find in London before I go on with you. But I’ll come back about eleven in the morning, and after that, I’ll stay with you, as you wish, at least long enough to make you a better, if not a wiser, man. But now, no champagne, in fact no liquor of any kind, for a while at least, and no food with the exception of a cream soup, perhaps, and plenty of buttermilk.”

Whereupon Berenice entered the room and was introduced by Cowperwood. Dr. James, after greeting her turned to Cowperwood and exclaimed:

“How can you be ill, with such a cure for all ills right here at your bedside! You may be sure I’ll be here bright and early in the morning.”

After which, and very professionally, he explained to Berenice that when he returned he would require hot water, towels, and some charcoal from a brightly blazing fireplace which he saw in an adjoining room.

“To think I should have come all the way from New York to treat him, with the cure right here, ” he observed to her, smilingly. “This world is too ridiculous for any use.”

Berenice, noting how wise and gay he was, liked him at once, and thought of the many strong and interesting people Frank invariably drew to himself.

Accordingly, after an added personal talk with Cowperwood, he left for the city, but not before he had caused Cowperwood to feel that his gigantic financial obligations constituted a form of disease in themselves.

“These varying problems prey on your mind, Frank, ” he told him, seriously. “The brain is a thinking, creative, and directive organ which can cause you as much trouble as any fatal disease, of which worry is one, and I think you have that disease now. My problem is to make you know that that is true, and that your life is worth more to you than any ten underground systems. If you insist on putting work first, any quack doctor can truthfully assure you that at your age you are likely to die. So now my problem is to get your mind off your underground systems, and get you to take a real rest.”

“I will do the best I can, ” said Cowperwood, “but some of these burdens are not so easy to drop as you may imagine. They concern the interests of hundreds of people who have put their complete faith in me, besides millions of Londoners who have never been able to travel beyond the limits of their own neighborhoods. With my plan, they will be able to ride to all parts of London for as little as tuppence, and so get a fairly good idea of what their city is like.”

“There you go, Frank! If your life should suddenly end, where would your Londoners be then? ”

“My Londoners will be all right, whether I live or die, assuming that I get my underground plan fully launched before I die. Yes, Jeff, I’m afraid I do put my work far above myself. In fact, this thing I’ve started has already grown so large that no one man is indispensable to it now, not even me, although there are many things I can do if I live long enough to carry out my ideas.”