Which Contains Some Valuable Hints In Relation To The Management Of A Sick Chamber

By measured degrees the mysterious stranger slowly regained his strength, if not his wits. In truth, his recovery  - much aided by the hourly ministrations of the landlady of the Dragon - would have been swifter had it not been for the daily visits of the apothecary, who, fearing the usurpation of his medical authority by the blacksmith, went to great pains (all of which were keenly felt by the unfortunate subject of his care) to assert his supremacy. In his desire to demonstrate the breadth of his knowledge in the field, the chemist in no short order practised bloodletting, cupping, plastering and purging; recommended hot baths and cold baths; advocated mesmerism and galvanism; forbade the consumption of green beans and cabbage; and prescibed no small number of tonics and elixirs, all of which could be purchased by the ounce at his own humble shop. When the patient was at last strong enough to leave his bed and take the air, those who had assembled in the bar to toast his recovery remarked that it was indeed a miracle to see him on his feet again, in which observation they were not very much mistaken.

Which Contains Much Idle Speculation

The appearance at The Blue Dragon of a stranger - coming nobody knew whence, and going nobody knew whither - quite naturally became the chief subject of all idle conversation in the neighbouring village, which lay within an easy journey of the fair town of Salisbury. The intelligence that the mysterious gentleman was a perfect stranger even unto himself excited no small amount of curiosity nor any lesser degree of speculation. Was he a nobleman come in disguise amongst simple country folk to perform secret acts of philanthropy? Was he the heir to a great fortune, cast out by an ungrateful parent to whom he would one day be reconciled? Was he a man of great trade who had been set upon by footpads in a dusky lane and robbed of all his worldly possessions? How else to explain the fact that his pockets were empty, his pantaloons were torn and his jacket out at the elbows? Had the unfortunate traveller received a blow to the head from a ruffian's cudgel? How else to explain his wild ravings and his constant call for strong liquor? These deep questions and many others were the matter of much rumination amongst the regulars of the Dragon when they supped their ale in the bar below the very room where the stranger slept.

In Which Mr Headstone Forgets Himself

The sequence of events that delivered Mr Headstone from a close death under an oak tree can be summarised in a few paragraphs. By a fortuitous circumstance a traveller on foot was passing by the scene of the accident shortly after the lightening had struck. He was a young fellow, of some five or six-and-twenty perhaps, and was dressed in such a free and fly-away fashion that the long ends of his loose red neckcloth were streaming out behind him quite as often as before; and he wore a bunch of bright meadow flowers in the buttonhole of his velveteen coat. On hearing cries coming from beneath a pile of smoking timber, the young man ran to the pedagogue's aid and extricated him from his predicament, all the while singing in a very loud voice as if he were engaged in an easy and not unpleasurable task.

Having established that the gentleman was no worse for his experience than might be reasonably expected, the rural Samaritan escorted him to a local ale-house that went by the name of The Blue Dragon. This establishment advertised itself not unnaturally with a large sign on which was represented the rampant form of that mythical beast, and which, having been exposed to many a wintry storm of rain, snow, sleet, and hail, was so battered and weathered that its original gaudy blue had faded to a lack-lustre shade of grey. The mistress of the house was in outward appearance just what a landlady should be: broad, buxom, comfortable, and good-looking, with a face of clear red and white, which, by its jovial aspect, at once bore testimony to her hearty participation in the good things of the larder and cellar, and to their thriving and healthful influences. Under her command a chamber was prepared for the unfortunate stranger and he was by stages got into bed.

There being no medical practitioner resident in the village but a poor apothecary who was also a grocer and general dealer, the landlady sent for him immediately. Of course, it followed, as a necessary result of his being wanted, that he was not at home, and so the blacksmith attended the bedside. This worthy's experience in matters aesculapian being confined to the quadruped, it is questionable whether his remedy of applying a bed warmer to the soles of the patient's feet had any material effect. Howsoever it was, in the course of two hours, the gentleman's sufferings decreased and the blacksmith retired to the bar below for a pint of porter, which he took in lieu of a medical fee.

On the following day the patient was sufficiently recovered to take some broth, which was brought to him by the landlady. Mrs Lupin - for in that name the Blue Dragon was licensed to furnish entertainment, both to man and beast - had her full share and dividend of that large capital of curiosity which is inherited by her sex, and as she held each spoon of steaming broth before the gentleman's trembling lips, she pressed him with questions on his name, on his origin, on his profession or his station. The lady's curiosity, however, remained unsatisfied as the gentleman could answer none of the enquiries with any degree of certainty - for the blow he had received to his head had rendered him senseless and deprived him of any memories from his past.

In Which Mr Headstone Is Welcomed Back Into The Fold

The appearance of Mr Bradley Headstone at the very gathering instituted to mark his passing was an occurrence of no small astonishment to those who had assembled at The Saracen's Head to pay their respects. The pedagogue - being entirely ignorant of the circumstances that had united his friends and acquaintances in grief - called for a brandy and water, and only became cognisant of the wall of staring faces behind him when he had sunk the contents of his glass and turned to lean his elbows on the bar and survey his surroundings. He remarked to the landlord that he had never in all his life seen so many patrons in a single establishment and, congratulating his host on the thriving nature of his business, exhibited no compunction in asking that gentleman to chalk his order (which he now repeated) upon the board in anticipation of future pecuniary expectations.

Of all the wide-eyed open-mouthed expressions confronting Mr Headstone, none was wider of eye nor more open of mouth than that of Mr Richard Swiveller, who now stepped forward and, on behalf of the United Bulldogs, welcomed the pedagogue with a firm handshake and called for the entire company to rejoice that what had been thought lost was now found, which sentiment was taken as a general signal to resume carousing.