Read Online The Highwayman's Curse by Nicola Morgan - Free Book Online

which would rot and die for certain, if I could not straighten it properly. I knew little enough how to do it, but I could visualize those displaced bones and surely it must be a matter of common sense how to pull them straight. Common sense and a deal of resolve.
    I must save the arm and thereby the boy’s life. There lay our only hope. Without that, we would find ourselves drowned at high tide.
    Dizzy specks swarmed across my vision. Unable to quell my panic, I took my hands from Tam’s wrist. “More whisky,” I said. Moments later, a cup was placed in front of me. Taking a deep breath, I took several large mouthfuls, gasping with the shock of it. And, in the spinning amber haze that followed, I took Tam’s wrist again.
    Quickly, firmly, I pulled the hand towards me.
    The boy moaned, and a line of drool came from the corner of his mouth. The reek of whisky was everywhere, its heat still in my head, somehow separating my mind from what my hands were doing.
    It was as though I watched myself from above. I saw myself cup the broken arm beneath my hand, watched my fingers feel for the edges of the bones beneath the swollen flesh, felt them slide apart as I pulled his wrist again. I felt a space between the edges, was aware of Tam writhing beneath me, though oddly I heard no sound, only the rushing in my head and my own words, “Be still! Stay quiet! I have nearly finished.” I think Bess turned her head from what I did with my fingers; I know her eyes were narrow as slits, her mouth clamped shut as though she would keep a scream inside.
    With a crunch which I felt but did not seem to hear, the bones slid onto each other beneath my fingers, fitting like a jagged stick, safely, straight. “Now,” I said to Bess and, while I held his arm steady with both my hands, she tied the piece of wood to him again, her fingers fumbling at first but soon finding their way. And now, though I know not why I did this except either by some instinct or because of some dim-remembered saying from one of my father’s kennelmen, I placed my hands on the boy’s upper arm and shoulder, massaging the life back into it. And I would swear I saw some colour return slowly to the pallid flesh.
    For some long moments, we watched, all of us. I stood up and felt the blood rushing to my own feet after I had knelt for so long.
    I know not what the reason is for any of this – whether some miracle of God, or that the boy would have recovered even without me, or whether perhaps I have some hidden skill in medical matters – but the boy lay quiet and peaceful now and, though fast asleep, yet with a rosier complexion and smooth breathing. I think perhaps he needed only to sleep and the whisky gave that to him. Perhaps sleep took away his mortal fear, quietening his heart and soothing him. I believe it was not anything else I did.
    Whether in truth it was my action that saved that boy’s life mattered little, for his family thought it was. And I was happy for them to think so.
    Tears were in Jeannie’s eyes, as she looked gratefully at me before lifting Tam and lying him down more comfortably in the box-bed. She covered him with warm blankets as he muttered in his drunken sleep.
    Now the strength went from my legs and I found myself on the floor, my head spinning.
    â€œGive the lad some food!” called Thomas, picking me up and slapping me heartily on the back. And very soon I was being led to the table, where a wooden plate with a steaming meaty substance was placed before me and another for Bess. I had not eaten since the day before and it was difficult not to gulp the whole plateful without pause.
    I know not what that food was, but it was tasty indeed. I think it had oatmeal and some finely chopped meat, lamb perhaps, with a thick dark gravy to bind it together. Heavily salted it was, and with a fiery taste. This was what the girl had been stirring when we arrived. I tried to look my thanks at her but