Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Steve Young > This page
Steve Young, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 17. Moral Surgery |
||
< Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. MORAL SURGERY "How easy it is to get into trouble!" said Steve; "and what a watch one has to keep over one's self! There I was, as happy and contented as could be, only a little while ago, and now everything's miserable. I wouldn't care if the captain had not spoken to me like that." "Go and tell him you're sorry," said the doctor. "I can't." "But you must, my lad. You were in the wrong, weren't you?" "I don't think so. It was all a bit of fun. I never expected that the boy would turn like that." "Well, wasn't it foolish of you to go making a playmate of such a rough, common lad? I'm not snobbish, Steve, but I think people get on better who make friends in their own class; and if your poor father could have seen you fighting a--" "Oh, don't, don't!" cried Steve, "pray! I know I behaved like a blackguard, and it served me right." "There, now you're behaving like a human donkey, my lad, and talking nonsense. Put it aside now. You're hot and excited. Let me give you a sedative draught." "Oh, Mr Handscombe!" cried the lad passionately. "To talk of physic at a time like this!" "There you go again!" cried the doctor, unconsciously using Watty Links's expression. "You've made your blood boil, and it wants cooling down." "Then I'll drink some water or suck a lump of ice," said Steve bitterly. "I can't take physic now." "Nonsense, you excitable young donkey!" cried the doctor. "I meant a mental sedative draught. I want you to hear reason, if you will listen to me." "I don't want to listen; I only want to be alone, sir." "Yes, to get into a stupid, morbid state, when a little bit of brave surgery--moral surgery--on your part would set all right." "There _you_ go again, sir!" cried Steve querulously. "One minute you want to give me pills and a draught, the next you want to begin cutting me to pieces." The doctor burst out laughing. "That's right," cried Steve, "laugh at me; I deserve it;" and at that moment he wished that he was a little child again, so that he could go and hide himself away, and relieve his feelings by crying fit to break his heart. But he did not say to himself "cry"; he put it as "blubber like a great girl." "Be quiet, my lad; and, believe me, I can feel for you and want to help you. I'm a doctor, and I talked metaphorically, as, of course, you know. By moral surgery I meant one brave bit of mastery over self, and cutting the trouble right out. There's no hiding the fact; you, as a gentleman's son, ought not to have been found fighting with the ship's boy, and under such ludicrous circumstances; now, ought you?" "No, I suppose not," replied Steve; "but--" "Never mind the 'buts,' my lad. You own that you are in the wrong?" "Yes." "Then go and wash your face and brush all that fluff off your jacket. Then pluck up, and like a man go in to the captain; keep cool--you'll be cooler by that time--and tell him exactly how it all was; say you are sorry, and--Don't keep on shaking your head like that, sir; you'll be doing some injury to your spinal column." "But I can't go and tell him that, after the way in which he looked and spoke to me." "Yes, you can, sir." "No." "There you go, shaking your head again. Tell him you were in the wrong." "That I'll be a good boy, and won't do so any more." "Well, is there anything to be ashamed of in that, sir?" "I couldn't do it--I wouldn't do it." "Then you're a coward." "No, I'm not," retorted Steve angrily. "You are--a miserable moral coward; and I thought you had more pluck in you--more of the honest, manly pluck of an English boy who is brave enough to own to a fault." "I'm not a coward," muttered Steve. "I'd show you if there was any occasion," and he stood frowning. "Bah! Any big, strong, stupid fellow, with no brains to boast about, can jump overboard to save any one or do anything of that kind. I want to see you act like a brave fellow who is ready to make a bit of sacrifice of his own feelings, and behave in a manly way. Come, I'm giving you good advice. We shall have bad weather enough to deal with out in the open; we don't want any moral bad weather in the cabin. Go to the captain, and speak out frankly. Do you know what he will do?" "Look at me, as he did just now." "That's insulting a brave man and my friend, sir," said the doctor sternly. "I know Captain Marsham better than you do, then. He will do nothing of the kind. He will listen calmly and dispassionately to all you have to say, and then perhaps point out a few things." "To humiliate me!" cried Steve. "There you go again, blazing out. No, hardly to humiliate you; but, even if he does, who the salts of tartar are you, sir, that you are not to be spoken to and humiliated a bit when you have gone wrong?" "Oh, I'm nobody," said Steve bitterly; "I'm a donkey and an ass." "Yes," said the doctor quietly, "but that is rather running wild; a donkey and an ass are the same thing, Stevey, my lad. If the captain says a few things to cut your comb a little, they will do you good; and I am as certain as that I am sitting here that he will end by saying, 'There, my boy, then, that's an end of it. Let it be a lesson to you. Now shake hands.'" "He wouldn't say that. He'd send me out of the cabin feeling more miserable than I feel now." "I know better than that, my lad. You're punishing yourself." "Then, if a boy strikes me I'm not to strike him again?" cried Steve. "Humph! Well, I did not say that, my lad, exactly." "What was I to do, sir? Was I to let that miserable, disagreeable young rascal, who has been insulting and sneering at me ever since we started from Nordoe, knock me about, and I not retaliate?" The doctor looked puzzled. "Go in and shake hands with the captain; he's in his cabin." "No, he isn't. I heard him go on deck, sir. But you didn't answer me." "I told you that you couldn't fight with a boy like that. Look at your clothes." "Oh yes, I know, sir. I'm all over feathers; but you don't say anything about what I asked: was I to let him knock me about and crow over me?" "Well--er," said the doctor, "you might have kicked him." "And that would have been cowardly, and he would have kicked me again. It's worse to fight with the feet than it is to fight with the hands." "Humph! Well, yes, I suppose it is," muttered the doctor; "but never mind that. Go on deck as soon as you're decent, and talk to the captain there." "I can't, sir." "Then will you go to him when he comes down?" Steve shook his head, and the doctor began to grow warm. "Now, don't be absurd and obstinate, sir," he cried; "do as I advise you, and let's get this miserable trouble out of the way. The cabin's too small, and we all want to help one another too much, for our little commonwealth to be at sixes and sevens. Come, pitch all that shame and cowardice overboard." "Do you mean to say, sir, that I did wrong in pitching--I mean in hitting that hot-headed Scotch boy again when he hit me?" "I did not bring you down here to argue out questions of that kind, sir." "But you might answer me, sir. I want to know whether I really was in the wrong." "Take it that you were," said the doctor. "No, sir, I can't. I don't feel convinced. If you had been in my place--" "I'm not going to answer any such questions, Steve, and you have no right to put them to me. I tell you I am not going to be cross-examined by you, sir, on all kinds of pros and cons. This is a matter that I want settled at once for both of your sakes--there, for all our sakes. Now go." Steve shook his head again. "I don't feel as if I can." "Then you're a more stubborn fellow than I took you to be; and I can assure you, Steve, I feel that, with a lad whom I have always tried to make my friend. Now, have I not?" "Yes, sir." "Then do as I say, Steve. Come, like a man." "I can't now." "There you go again, repeating this obstinate can't, can't, can't, when all the time you can." "But tell me this, sir. Supposing--" "Look here, boy, am I your doctor, or am I not?" "No, sir, I haven't been ill," said Steve drily. "You're ill now. Your nerves are all jarred, your head's in an unwonted state of excitement, and your pulse is going--though I have not felt it--far above its normal rate. You are ill, sir, bodily and mentally, in a regular peevish state of excitement; and as your doctor, speaking perfectly honestly and straightforwardly, I say to you that the medicine you require is mental; that you have only to go to the captain and have a few words based on my advice, and you will be well again directly." "I'm not ill," said Steve coldly. "You are, sir; and mental illness is worse than an ordinary bodily ailment. Now, will you go?" "Will you answer me this one question, sir, first?" "No. Well, yes, I will, if it's a sensible one; and then I shall expect you to go at once to make yourself tidy and see the captain. Now, then, it's very weak of me, but I'll do it this once. What is it?" "Suppose, sir--" "Oh, hang your supposes; let's have facts!" "Suppose, sir," continued Steve, watching the doctor intently the while, "you were a boy like I am." "What nonsense! Well, go on, boy." "And a big rough-headed Scotch lad, after annoying you in all kinds of ways, hit you in a most insulting manner. What would you do?" "I'd try and knock his head off!" cried the doctor hotly. "I--that is-- I mean--I don't approve of fighting--I--hang the boy! How stupid of me! I mean I think I should have complained to the captain, and asked him to have the fellow flogged." "Captains on board ships like this can't have the boys flogged," said Steve drily. "Punished, then." "You said what you would do, sir, at first, and then turned it off. I did the same, and you've been blaming me." "Well, well; yes, yes, Steve, I did; but let's leave that question alone, my lad. It's one that has never yet been thoroughly settled on account of its difficulty. I don't approve of fighting, but there are times when--that is--you see it's a very awkward question that we had better leave. I spoke hastily, and I'm afraid that I have done more harm than good. Come, you'll shake hands with me?" Steve eagerly held out his. "That's right," said the doctor, gripping the extended palm. "And you'll take my advice?" Steve shook his head. "I can't yet, sir." "Steve, my boy, you send quite a chill through me," cried the doctor angrily. "I'm as cold as if the weather had suddenly changed and a biting wind were coming off the ice." "My head's quite hot, sir; but it does feel as if it were cold." "Of course. Nerves, Steve, nerves; unwonted excitement. Hah! Here's the captain coming into the cabin. Now's your time." Steve shook his head. "You must go now. Here, I'll run and tell him you want to speak to him." "No, sir; pray don't." The door opened, and Captain Marsham came in quickly. "Come on deck, Handscombe," he said, as he stood at the door putting on a pea-jacket. "You had better have a coat, for there is a remarkable change. The wind has turned nearly due north, and I'm afraid we are going to have a heavy snow-blast. Quick! the change is worth seeing." He did not even glance at Steve, but turned away, and the doctor followed, to stop at the door. "There, go and wash yourself, my lad. It has turned cold, but let's get this over; we have no time for quarrelling here on board ship." He hurried out, and left Steve in the cabin alone with his bitter thoughts. _ |