“Sic vos non vobis—­”

“Yes, you have the work, and we have the pay; which is a very fair division of labour, considering the world we live in.”

“And have you been skilful enough to make science pay you here, in such an out-of-the-way little world as that of Aberalva must be?”

“She is a good stalking-horse anywhere;” and Tom detailed, with plenty of humour, the effect of his microscope and his lecture on the drops of water.  But his wit seemed so much lost on Campbell, that he at last stopped almost short, not quite sure that he had not taken a liberty.

“No; go on, I beg you; and do not fancy that I am not interested and amused too, because my laughing muscles are a little stiff from want of use.  Perhaps, too, I am apt to take things too much au grand serieux; but I could not help thinking, while you were speaking, how sad it was that people were utterly ignorant of matters so vitally necessary to health.”

“And I, perhaps, ought not to jest over the subject:  but, indeed, with cholera staring us in the face here, I must indulge in some emotion; and as it is unprofessional to weep, I must laugh as long as I dare.”

The Major dropped his coffee-cup upon the floor, and looked at Thurnall with so horrified a gaze, that Tom could hardly believe him to be the same man.  Then recollecting himself, he darted down upon the remains of his cup:  and looking up again—­“A thousand pardons; but—­did I hear you aright? cholera staring us in the face?”

“How can it be otherwise?  It is drawing steadily on from the eastward week by week; and, in the present state of the town, nothing but some miraculous caprice of Dame Fortune’s can deliver us.”

“Don’t talk of Fortune, sir! at such a moment.  Talk of God!” said the Major, rising from his chair, and pacing the room.  “It is too horrible!  Intolerable!  When do you expect it here?”

“Within the month, perhaps,—­hardly before.  I should have warned you of the danger, I assure you, had I not understood from you that you were only going to stay a fortnight.”

The Major made an impatient gesture.

“Do you fancy that I am afraid for myself?  No; but the thought of its coming to—­to the poor people in the town, you know.  It is too dreadful.  I have seen it in India—­among my own men—­among the natives.  Good heavens, I never shall forget—­and to meet the fiend again here, of all places in the world!  I fancied it so clean and healthy, swept by fresh sea-breezes.”

“And by nothing else.  A half-hour’s walk round would convince you, sir; I only wish that you could persuade his lordship to accompany you.”

“Scoutbush?  Of course he will,—­he shall,—­he must.  Good heavens! whose concern is it more than his?  You think, then, that there is a chance of staving it off—­by cleansing, I mean?”

“If we have heavy rains during the next week or two, yes.  If this drought last, better leave ill alone; we shall only provoke the devil by stirring him up.”