CHAPTER V.

TOM'S ILLNESS.

A FEW days after the incident of the torn jacket, Tom woke one morning feeling heavy and drowsy, and when he got downstairs, he complained of having a headache and sore throat. He could not eat his breakfast, and his mother told him he had better go back to bed again, as he had evidently caught a severe cold.

"You have got your feet wet, I expect, and not changed your boots as soon as you came home," said Mrs. Winn, "although I have often heard Elsie tell you to do it."

There had been a long continuance of wet weather, and Bobbie and baby had both been poorly from colds and coughs, and so Mrs. Winn was not in the least alarmed about Tom.

He was asleep at dinner time when his mother went to his room to see what he would have, but soon after she went back to her work, he called to Elsie to bring him some water.

"I am so thirsty," he said, when his sister took him some drink.

"How is your head now, Tom?" she asked, for she was very fond of her brother, although he did give her so much trouble sometimes.

"Feels like a pumpkin," said the boy as he nestled down in the pillow again.

"Shall I make you a cup of tea presently?" said Elsie. "Perhaps that will do you good."

"Perhaps it will," murmured the boy, in a sleepy tone, as he turned his head from the light.

Elsie generally took her mother a cup of tea to the work-room, about three o'clock, and when she had done this, she poured out a cup for Tom, and cut a thin slice of bread and butter, and took both up to him. He was asleep, but tossing his arms about restlessly, and rolling his head on the pillow, and moaning so dolefully, that as soon as he had drank the tea, Elsie went off in a fright to tell her mother that she thought Tom must be very ill.

"It is a feverish cold he has got, and he may have to lie in bed two or three days," said Mrs. Winn, who was not alarmed at trifles, and had often seen Tom suffering from a chill.

She was too busy to go and see Tom again at once, but at tea time, she took him a cup of tea and another slice of thin bread and butter.

Tom was moaning restlessly in his sleep.

"Tom, dear, wake up and have your tea," said his mother, laying her hand on his forehead to rouse him.

Tom opened his eyes, and seized eagerly upon the tea to drink, but he did not want anything to eat, and was soon as drowsy as ever.

Mrs. Winn went back to the work-room after she had had her own tea, feeling vaguely uneasy about Tom. It might be only a feverish cold, she argued with herself, but she wished he did not roll his head so much when he was asleep, for she began to fear that it might mean a more serious illness than a simple cold. If she did not have to practice such strict economy, she would have sent for a doctor at once; but doctors' bills were a terror to her, and she sent Elsie to the chemist's for some medicine, which she gave him in the course of the evening, hoping he would be a good deal better in the morning.

The medicine certainly seemed to relieve his head, after he had taken it a few hours, but instead of being able to get up the next morning, as his mother had hoped, Tom was most unmistakably very ill when she went to see him, and she decided to send for the doctor without further delay.

So when Jane Holmes came at nine o'clock, Mrs. Winn asked her to go and fetch Dr. Weston to see Tom as soon as he possibly could. And when she came back, she sent her to the work-room, to wait there until after the doctor had been.

Poor woman! She did not tell even Elsie what she feared was ailing Tom. She could only hope that the doctor would say she was quite mistaken, and that the symptoms were only those of a feverish cold.

But her heart almost died within her when the doctor, after examining Tom, turned to her and said, "Where has he been, Mrs. Winn?"

"He goes to school, doctor," she said in a faint voice.

"Has he been playing in Sadler Street? Do any of his friends or school-fellows live in that street?" asked the doctor.

"He has no business to go near the street, but I cannot say that he has not, for he has been rather late coming home from school lately."

"The reason I asked was this, they have scarlet fever in that neighbourhood rather badly just now, and this looks like another case, and I have heard of no other at this end of the town."

"Oh, sir!" was all the poor woman could utter for a minute or two. For scarlet fever would mean the ruin of her business, and might possibly bring them all to beggary before it had run its course.

The doctor understood the exclamation, and the look of dismay in the widow's face as she turned to look at Tom.

"I am very sorry, Mrs. Winn, but I am afraid there is very little doubt that he has taken the disease from somebody. Now the question is, what are you to do about your work?"

For the doctor knew all about the dressmaking, and had recommended her to his wife.

"I must send and let the people know, of course," said the poor woman.

And then she burst into tears, for this would mean that she could not earn a penny for weeks, or possibly even months.

"Yes, the work you have in the house must be sent back at once," said the doctor; "but I should like you to find out, if you could, where he has been lately, for I have not heard of any other case of scarlet fever in this neighbourhood; and I think, if you are careful to follow my directions, we may keep it from spreading further; or would you like him sent to the hospital?" suddenly added the doctor.

"Oh, no, no! I must nurse him myself, and trust in God to provide for us afterwards," said Mrs. Winn, with another sob, and then she forced back her tears, and gave all her attention to the doctor's directions for isolating Tom from the rest, and what she was to do before she went to the work-room to send back the work she had in the house by Jane Holmes.

Tom's head was aching, and he still felt sleepy, but he could understand enough of what had been said by the doctor to know that in his folly and wilfulness, he had brought a great calamity upon his mother and sister. And he had promised his father a few days before he died, that he would do all he could to help them, and this was how he had fulfilled his promise.

He did not say a word to his mother, for as soon as the doctor had gone, she went to change her dress, that she might send the work back, and tell Jane Holmes that there would be nothing for her to do until Tom got better. But while his mother was away, Tom tried to control his thoughts that he might be able to tell her that he had been with Jack Bond to Sadler Street several times lately, although Mr. Potter had told them at the scholarship class to avoid going there, as he had heard that there were cases of scarlet fever in that neighbourhood.

But the very effort to think this out, so as to be able to tell his mother all about it, seemed to make his head ache and throb worse than ever, so that by the time she came back, he could only utter a wild cry of "Mother! Mother!" And then he muttered something about a man driving nails in his head, when he meant to say that he went to see Jack make a new hutch for his rabbits.

Mrs. Winn did what she could to soothe Tom's restlessness. But it soon became evident that he was growing rapidly worse, for during the afternoon, he became quite delirious, and the doctor had to be sent for again.

"What does he mean about the nails in his head making rabbit hutches?" asked the doctor, after listening to Tom's wild talk. "Has he been making a rabbit hutch lately, that it should seem to trouble him so much?"

"No; he has no rabbits to make a hutch for; but all his talk has been about that."

"Yes, it seems to be troubling him a good deal, too," said the doctor; "I wish you could find out all about it, and whether he has been to Sadler Street lately."

"Yes, I will," said Mrs. Winn, for she thought if she could only discover what was the cause of Tom's evident distress, she might be the better able to comfort him and relieve it.

So as soon as the doctor had gone she changed her dress, washed her face and hands in disinfectant, that she might not carry the disorder to anyone else, and then went to the school to see the master, and learn, if possible, what had caused Tom's illness.

Mr. Potter came forward as soon as he saw who his visitor was. "You have come to see me about your son, of course, Mrs. Winn, but I really cannot take him back into the scholarship class. He is doing no good to himself in it, but simply hindering the boys who want to—" then seeing the look of wondering surprise in his visitor's face, he said, "I understood it was Mrs. Winn who wished to see me."

"Yes, I am Mrs. Winn; but I do not understand—I have come to tell you that my eon is very ill—dangerously ill, I am afraid, and the doctor thought you might be able to enlighten us as to where he has caught it, for it seems to be scarlet fever. Have you heard of any other boys in the school having it?" asked the widow.

"Yes, there have been several cases among the boys who live in Sadler Street, so that for the sake of the other scholars, and under the advice of the doctor, I have sent to all the parents of children living there to say that they must not come to school until the sickness is over."

"Then Tom could not have caught it in that way," said the widow.

"Not unless he went to Sadler Street for anything, and then he might," said the master. "You see, he was very intimate with a boy who lived there, and he may have persuaded him to go home with him for something. I believe he went there to help him to make a rabbit hutch when he played truant from the class, for I have heard from another lad who met him that he was on his way here in the company of Bond, but he never appeared, and that was what decided me to take the step I did, and tell him that he could not come to the class again."

"When was he told that?" asked the widow, with a sigh. For this was a trouble she had not expected, and it did but increase her anxiety concerning Tom.

"I told him myself the last day he was at school. He was not here yesterday all day."

"No; he was taken ill yesterday morning, and could not get up. You think he may have gone to this Sadler Street?" she added.

"I think it is very possible he went there, although I warned all the school not to go through that street on their way home, if they could avoid it. A few months ago I should have said that Tom would not have disobeyed that order, but lately he has given us a good deal of trouble, and it is just possible that his companion Bond persuaded him to go there in spite of all I said. If you will wait a minute, I will ask some of the boys, before they leave, if they know anything about it;" and he went at once to the room where Tom's class was preparing to go home.

Up went half a dozen hands as he had asked the question.

"Please, sir, Winn and Bond were making a rabbit hutch together in Bond's yard. Tom told me, and asked me to go and see it."

"Did you go?" asked the master.

"No, sir. You had told us to keep away from Sadler Street, unless we wanted to be ill. Bond said you had a spite against Sadler Street, and him too, and that's why you had told us not to go!"

"Very well, that will do, Wicks. Winn believed Bond, it seems, and went there with him, and he is dangerously ill his mother tells me."

Silence fell upon the class as the boys looked one at the other, but they each mentally resolved to take the master's word for the future.

He went back and told Mrs. Winn that it was no secret in the school that Tom had been building a rabbit hutch with his friend, and the probability was that he had gone there frequently, and not simply once or twice. He said what he could to comfort the poor woman, for he could see she was terribly distressed over what she had heard concerning Tom.

On her way back, she called to tell the doctor what she had heard at the school, and how, in spite of the master's warning, Tom must have gone to the forbidden street.

"Ah! And it is this disobedience that is troubling him, and causing the brain mischief. I am glad you have found this out, Mrs. Winn, but I am afraid it will make our work the harder; and he will suffer a good deal more in his head from this cause than from the fever alone, for the one will complicate the other, and he will need the most careful nursing and watching."

The widow went home sadly depressed and disheartened. She did not mind how hard she worked for her children; but to work hard as she had done, and then learn that, through her boy's wilfulness and folly, she had laboured almost in vain, was bitter indeed, and she could not help telling Elsie something of what she felt.

Poor Elsie could not bear to feel angry with her brother, now he was so ill, but she turned her wrath upon Jack Bond. "It is that wicked boy, mother, not our Tom who is to blame," protested Elsie.

"But, my dear, Tom is to blame, for he ought to have known better than to go near the street after the master had warned the boys not to do so."

She did not say a word to Elsie about the other news she had heard at the school. She could not talk of Tom's disgrace even to Elsie just now; she felt it too keenly. That her boy should be expelled from a class they had all thought it an honour that he should enter, was a very great disgrace she thought, and at least she would spare Elsie the bitterness of this knowledge if she possibly could.

She went back to the sick-room, and found Tom moaning, and tossing, and crying out about the nails in his head; and the neighbour who had come in to stay with him while she went out, told her he had continued these moanings all the time she was gone.

"I tried to make him understand that we were not putting nails into his head," said the old lady.

But Mrs. Winn knew that all such efforts were useless just now, and that Tom would have to bear as best he could the terrible punishment his own folly and disobedience had brought upon him.

Poor Tom felt as though he was far away from everybody who could help him, and that the man with the nails would drive them into his head, do what he would to get away from him, while his heart-breaking cry of "Mother! Mother!" made his mother's heart ache. For when trying to soothe him, he would roughly push her away, and throw himself to the other side of the bed.

As the days went on, poor Tom grew worse, until his mother was almost worn out with sleeplessness and nursing, while Elsie downstairs was scarcely less anxious than her mother, for the isolation in which they had to live added to the distress and discomfort.

Elsie had always been very popular among her school-fellows, and the circumstances under which she had been compelled to give up her scholarship had rather added to her popularity, so that scarcely a day passed but one girl friend or the other came to see her, or bring her a book to read. But now, with the dreaded scarlet fever in the house, people were obliged to stay away, and no one but the old lady next door, who would not be kept out, ever came near them.

This was hard upon Elsie, and sometimes she thought this one or that might call and ask how Tom was getting on, for the bedroom where he lay was securely isolated from the rest of the house, lest she or the little ones should catch the infection. So that, as she reasoned, it was not likely any one would catch it standing at the street door for a minute.

But still they did not come, and Elsie, shut away from her mother and the sick-room, with no society but Bobbie and baby, found the days very long and dreary, and it was hardly surprising that she grew pale and peevish. For although she took the children out for a walk every fine day, friends were careful, if they met her, to nod, and, after asking how Tom was, hurry on as though she had got scarlet fever as well as her brother.

But for the neighbourly old lady next door, Mrs. Winn must have broken down under the strain, but she insisted upon coming to sit with Tom every afternoon, while his mother had an hour's rest, and went for ten minutes' walk in the open air. This old lady had been an hospital nurse, and insisted that some of these wise rules should be followed by the widow. And as Tom was always more quiet when she nursed him, Mrs. Winn could not but follow her advice, and was very thankful for her help.

But for her willingness to learn of one who knew more about sickness than she did, her strength would scarcely have held out, for Tom's illness was prolonged until the doctor feared that his strength would be exhausted before the rallying point was reached, and he said a word or two to Mrs. Winn, lest, if the disorder should take an unfavourable turn, it should prove too great a shock to her already over-strained nerves.

"Oh, doctor, save him!" she implored. "I know my poor boy has something on his mind he wants to tell me. Save him for this!" she added, with a burst of tears.

"You know I will do all that is possible," said the doctor; "and I hope his strength will yet hold out. We must hope for the best," he added, "and watch for the first chance he may have of being able to speak, and tell us what is troubling him."

"I am sure he wants to tell me something," said poor Mrs. Winn.

And in this, her mother's instinct was correct, for, in his delirium, Tom was trying, trying, always trying to tell his mother how sorry he was for vexing Elsie and disobeying his schoolmaster. But now, when "by-and-bye" had come, he could not speak, did not know what he wanted to say, or whether his mother was near to hear him.

Never trust the promises of "by-and-bye," boys. Seize the present moment to do your duty, whatever it may be, for fear you should never have a chance of doing it later on.