Read Cherry Ames 21 Island Nurse Online
Authors: Helen Wells
Cherry Ames 21 Island Nurse (16 page)
“Smith and Ramsay,” Higgins said, referring to the chauffeur and the gardener, “are at the stone cottage.
I’ll get them and we’ll scour the place.” Cherry was all for going with him, but Tess’s strong arms restrained her. “Na, na, Miss Cherry,” Tess said.
“Ye waud only hamper the men.”
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CHERRY
AMES,
ISLAND
NURSE
Higgins went out into the storm. Cherry and Tess watched him until the darkness swallowed up the glow of his fl ashlight as he ran toward the stone cottage beyond the west gardens where Smith lived with Hugh Ramsay and his wife.
“Get off those wet clothes and take a hot bath,” Tess ordered Cherry then, “before ye catch your death.” The sturdy, motherly Scotswoman bundled her off upstairs.
Cherry tiptoed to Sir Ian’s door and peeked in. It was with profound relief that she saw that Sir Ian was asleep. There was a fi re in the fi replace and the room was snug and warm.
That Sir Ian should have slept during all that time, and in the storm with all its noise, struck Cherry as remarkable. She looked at her watch. It was twenty minutes past midnight. With all that had happened, it seemed years since she had gone up to the tower room.
Actually it was less than two hours ago.
In her own room, Cherry took the leather pouch with its pieces of silver and the page torn from the secret journal, from the pocket of her uniform where it had remained safe throughout her frantic chase after Tammie. She put the pouch with its contents in the top drawer of her bureau. Then she took a hot shower and changed into dry, clean clothes.
Tess came up with a bowl of hot soup and crackers on a tray.
“Sit ye doon and drink this,” she ordered, placing the tray on a table and drawing a chair alongside.
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151
Cherry did as she was bid, grateful to Tess for her thoughtfulness. Tess selected a straight chair from which she could observe Cherry, and perched on it.
At about Cherry’s fourth spoonful of soup, Tess said abruptly, “Now, Miss Cherry, ye’ll tell me how it happened that ye and Tammie Cameron were up in the tower this night.”
Cherry swallowed the soup. Tess and Higgins had been in the Barclay family so long, she refl ected, that they must know just about everything there was to know. So she told Tess the whole story of going up to look for Old Sir Ian’s secret journal and of how Tammie had arrived with food for his grandfather who had stowed away on the
Heron
.
“Jock Cameron and his grandson Tammie will be found cold and dead on the Craigmoddie Rocks, most likely.” Tess wagged her head in the most doleful manner.
“Oh, don’t say that, Tess!” Cherry exclaimed, horrifi ed at the very thought of such a tragedy.
“I waudna say it, if I dinna think it,” Tess said with a sigh. “And now that ye tell me Jock stowed away aboard the
Heron
, it’s unlikely that he will be heard of again.
They’ve both been kidnaped and spirited away on the fi shing boat, ne’er more to be seen.” On this illogical and dismal note, Tess gathered up the dishes and the tray. Admonishing Cherry to try to get some rest, “while ye can, for ye canna tell what tomorrow will bring,” the cook took her departure.
Cherry was so depressed over the imaginary fate of Tammie and his grandfather that she immediately burst 152
CHERRY
AMES,
ISLAND
NURSE
into tears as soon as Tess left. Then she realized how silly it was. With Higgins, Smith, and Ramsay searching for Tammie, surely he would be found. Besides, Old Jock and Tammie knew the island as well as they did the palm of their hands. As for being kidnaped—
that was just Tess speaking out of her dour nature.
It was ridiculous to believe that the
Heron’s
crew had made off with Old Jock and little Tammie. So far as Cherry knew, the
Heron
had not even come into port. But where had the fi shing boat gone, with Old Jock, the stowaway, and Little Joe Tweed aboard, after leaving St. John’s?
“I do know one thing, though,” she told herself, dry-ing her eyes and blowing her nose vigorously, “Old Sir Ian found native silver in that Old Mine.” She felt she could no longer sit still and continue to puzzle over things. She would go up to the tower on the chance that Tammie had gone back there to Old Sir Ian’s journal, which she had left on the table.
Taking her fl ashlight, she once more made her way up to the top of the tower. She lighted the candelabra on the table again and looked about. There was no one there, of course. The odor of melted wax and burned wicks hung heavy in the air from her previous visit.
A picture of the little fi gure in his oilskins rose before her eyes and she was fi lled with despair when she recalled how he had vanished into the stormy night.
Going to a window, she looked out to see if she could catch a glimpse of the lights of the three men, searching for Tammie on the cliffs. She could see nothing.
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153
It was dark, the sky still obscured by racing clouds.
The wind wailed about the walls of the tower, though the storm seemed spent and the earlier uproar had subsided.
She left the window, picked up the journal, and blowing out the candles made her way back downstairs.
Upon looking into Sir Ian’s room, she found him asleep, appearing very comfortable and relaxed.
“I’m wide awake,” Cherry thought, “so I might as well sit in here as in my own room.” She settled herself in the chair by the fi re.
She opened the journal where she had left off and began to read of the daily thoughts and happenings of a boy who lived in that same house so long ago.
After a while the writing blurred on the page. Cherry closed her smarting eyes for a few minutes to rest them. Her head nodded several times and she leaned it against the back of the chair. She fell sound asleep.
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cheery woke, startled, to find that the candle had long since burned out and only a blob of wax remained in the holder. While she slept, daylight had crept into the room. The journal lay open in her lap to the page where she had left off reading.
She turned her head to look at her patient and saw Sir Ian gazing at her with a fatherly smile.
“Did my heart good to see ye sleeping like a bairn,” he commented.
Cherry grinned back at him sheepishly and rubbed her eyes. “I was reading and all of a sudden . . .” Her voice trailed off. Into her mind leaped her worry over Tammie. She must fi nd out at once whether he had been found. She was on the point of springing from her chair when Sir Ian’s calm tones brought her back to herself.
155
156
CHERRY
AMES,
ISLAND
NURSE
“You fell asleep,” Sir Ian was saying. “I slept like a top myself. And I feel grand. I’m going to get up.”
“Now, you mustn’t,” Cherry admonished. “It’s too early. Goodness! What time is it?” She looked at her watch. It was not quite seven o’clock.
There were sounds of footsteps in the hall and, in a moment, Dr. Mackenzie thrust his tousled head inside the doorway. His face was gray with fatigue, his clothes rumpled. But he appeared in good spirits.
“Barometer’s rising and the storm’s practically over,” he announced. Then he said to Cherry, “Tess told me I’d fi nd you here,” and to Sir Ian, “What are you doing awake at this hour?”
“Why shouldn’t I be after a long night’s rest?” retorted the mine owner.
“Did you ever see such a contrary old Scotsman?” Dr. Mac asked Cherry, with a wink of an eye blood-shot from lack of sleep. “The storm and turmoil kept everyone else on the island up.”
“If ye are speaking for yourself, Mackenzie,” said Sir Ian, “I can well believe it. From the looks of ye, I’d vow ye’d not touched head to pillow in a week.”
“It seems that long,” the other agreed ruefully. “Well, I’m glad to see you so chipper, Sir Ian.” He walked over to the bed to have a good look at his patient. “Color’s good,” he commented. Then he took Sir Ian’s pulse and nodded with satisfaction. “How do you feel?” he asked.
“Hungry,” replied Sir Ian.
“Good. But how do you feel generally speaking?” insisted the doctor.
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WRECK
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“If ye canna tell I feel grand this morn,” the other replied in his richest Scottish burr, with a wicked little grin, “I dinna think ye are muckle of a medical mon.” With that he tossed back the covers and swung his long, pajama-clad legs off the bed, and began putting on his robe.
“Sir Ian has been giving every indication of getting well,” Cherry replied, “including behaving in a very in-dependent manner. He was busy for hours in the library yesterday.”
“Are ye through discussing me?” demanded Sir Ian, glaring at them, but with a merry twinkle in his eye.
“I’d count it a favor for the both of ye to get out and let a man dress.”
“Seeing that by your own expert diagnosis, you are feeling strong and well, sir,” said Dr. Mac with exaggerated stiffness, “I am no longer in doubt about asking a favor of you and of Cherry.” His tone changed and he became completely serious. “Cherry, you did get some rest, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did, Doctor,” Cherry replied.
“Ask your favor and be done,” Sir Ian said bluntly.
“We need a nurse badly,” Dr. Mac said. “Nurse Cowan, Meg, and the others are pretty worn out, although we all managed to get a little rest off and on.”
“What’s happened?” asked Sir Ian, instantly alert.
The doctor told briefl y of a night spent caring for casualties of the storm. A small pleasure craft had cap-sized and the six aboard had been rescued and brought to the hospital for treatment. There were a number of 158
CHERRY
AMES,
ISLAND
NURSE
serious accidents. People had been injured by fl ying objects and fallen wires. A good many had had to be treated for exposure and shock. As a result, the hospital had been jammed.
Meg had worked along with Bess Cowan, several practical nurses, and volunteers. Between them all, they had been able to cope with the situation.
“Why didn’t you call me, Dr. Mackenzie?” asked Cherry. “I would have been glad to help.”
“I would have, Nurse Ames, but this telephone along with a lot of others was out of order,” he explained.
“This morning I had to have some professional nursing help. That’s why I drove up from the hospital to see how things were here. If it’s possible I’d like you to come along with me right away.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Sir Ian said. “I’ll be all right.
Tess and Norah surely can do anything that’s needed.
Nurse lass, do ye want to go help in the emergency?” Cherry nodded emphatically. “Of course I do,” she declared. “What is it, Dr. Mac?”
Briefl y he explained, “I received a call from the lighthouse just before I came here. Its telephone has been in operation throughout the storm. A fi shing boat, the keeper reported, had piled up on the rocks off Carse Point. The Coast Guard have been trying since the boat was sighted earlier this morning, to bring the crew ashore. But the waves have been so high, they’ve not made much headway up to now. We’re going to have to give some medical treatment right there on the beach as the men are brought ashore.”
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WRECK
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“Fishing boat?” asked Cherry, suddenly suspicious that it might be the
Heron
. “Do you know the name of the boat?”
The doctor shook his head. “No. I didn’t ask.”
“I’ll get ready,” Cherry said quickly. Picking up the secret journal from the table, she crossed the hall to her own room, where she put the book away in the drawer with the leather pouch.
She heard Dr. Mac extracting a promise from Sir Ian that he would not overdo and would eat the bland foods prescribed at regular intervals.
“Remember you are still on a carefully planned regimen until you graduate to the usual three meals a day,” warned the doctor.
“I’ll bear it in mind,” Sir Ian promised. “Now, get along about your business and leave me to bathe and dress.”
Cherry got her raincoat, for it was damp and misty out, put on her rubbers and rain hat, and joined Dr. Mac in the hall. She called back to Sir Ian that she would be home as soon as she could.
“You’d better have some breakfast,” the doctor cautioned her as they went downstairs. “And I could do with a cup of hot coffee myself.”
Anxious to fi nd out if Tess had heard anything more of Tammie, Cherry sprinted toward the kitchen.
“Take it easy. Take it easy,” the doctor said, trying to keep up with her.
Tess looked up from stirring the oatmeal mush as they entered. Anticipating Cherry’s question, she shook her 160
CHERRY
AMES,
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NURSE
head in a woebegone way and said, “They’ve na found the boy. His grandma, Janet Cameron, poor woman is fair daft with worry. She’s out there somewhere with the men, searching. I caudna stop her. She waud go.”
“What’s all this about Janet Cameron’s grandson?” asked Dr. Mackenzie.
Tess made them sit down at the table in the kitchen to eat their breakfast before she would answer his question. Then over orange juice, a bowl of mush and milk, and hot coffee, Cherry, at Tess’s insistence, began the story of Tammie and the cook fi nished it. She wound up with the prediction that not only poor Tammie and his grandda, Old Jock, would never be seen again, but that now poor Janet, his grandma, would either catch her death of cold or fall to her death over the cliffs.
Cherry felt her eyes begin to smart with unshed tears, but Dr. Mackenzie took an optimistic view.
“I know that boy, Tammie,” he said, “and he’s smart as a whip. He can take care of himself on this island as well as any man. He’s probably perfectly safe with his grandfather somewhere. As for the two being kidnaped by the crew of the
Heron
—that sounds ridiculous.” Tess sniffed. “I’ll not argue with ye, Dr. Douglas Mackenzie,” she said smugly.
