Sea Change Read Online Free PDF Page B

his schoolbooks and wield a pen than use a knife on a man.
    "Are you really a surgeon?"
    "Will you throw me overboard if the answer is no?" Alcott said with the ghost of a smile.
    "I cannot afford to do that, Alcott."
    The young man sighed. "No, you cannot. I assisted my father, a physician, for many years and I was heading to Jamaica in the hopes that I could apprentice myself to another doctor I know there. I assisted with an amputation some weeks back on a frigate--the Caeneus. Aboard the Lady Jane I doctored the crew and the captain's lady in exchange for passage."
    "Kill many of them?"
    "No, and some did better for my treatment. Face facts, Captain. Right now, I am your best hope for your brother's recovery."
    "If Henry dies," David said softly, "I will have no further use for you, Alcott."
    "Henry will die if I do not operate, Captain Fletcher."
    David stared at him, but the boy just looked back at him calmly.
    "Very well. Stay in here, Doctor, and I will call for you. There is water in that carafe. Do you need any food?"
    "No, no food."
    "Do not meddle with anything."
    Alcott walked over to the bunk and sat, staring at the deck.
    "Alcott."
    He looked up, the shadows beneath his eyes stark against the pale skin.
    "As you value your life, you will save my brother."
    "Go away," Alcott said tiredly.
    When David returned some hours later followed by a sailor carrying a tray of food, Dr. Alcott was standing at the stern window, looking out at the schooner's wake.
    "Did you sleep?"
    "Some. Enough."
    He turned from the window and walked farther into the room, the late afternoon light highlighting his plain face, his slender shoulders and arms that looked too fragile to wield a surgeon's saw.
    "I am not hungry," he said.
    "Eat anyway. I speak from experience, Doctor," David said when Alcott frowned at him. "You will do better with some nourishment, and the coffee will combat your fatigue."
    "A valid point," Alcott acknowledged, seating himself at the small table. David sat on his rumpled bunk and watched the doctor drink some of the harsh but effective coffee brewed in the galley, and then spoon up the chowder.
    "This is good," Alcott said in surprise.
    "One of the advantages of cruising the islands, Doctor. More access to fresh food, and there are plenty of fish in these waters."
    Alcott stopped eating after just a few spoonfuls, but drank the rest of his coffee, a frown digging two lines between his brows.
    "You will never grow to your full size by not eating, Alcott," David said, injecting some heartiness into his voice. "I vow, at your age I could chase down a cow and consume it whole, then be hungry again a few hours later."
    A smile twitched the corner of the doctor's mouth. "All young men are empty kettles that never seem full."
    "How old are you, Alcott?"
    Alcott looked at him over the rim of his coffee cup. His face taken as whole wasn't going to win him the hearts of young ladies, but David suspected those thick-lashed eyes that tilted up at the corners got him his share of feminine smiles.
    "I am twenty years old, Captain."
    "You look younger."
    "So they tell me."
    "Twenty. That is how old Henry is."
    "I could tell he was your younger brother."
    "Yes, and a pestilent little puppy when he was growing up, always tagging behind me, imitating me, following everywhere...even to sea."
    David looked down at his hands, clenched into fists on his knees.
    "Captain Fletcher."
    He looked up. The doctor was watching him.
    "Your brother lives, Captain, and while there is life, there is hope."
    Alcott rose from the table and washed his hands at the basin near the bunk, then picked up his satchel.
    "Is my room ready? Take me there so I can prepare, and then I will take care of Mr. Fletcher."
    David escorted him to the room near his own cabin. Abovedecks he could hear the crew, one watch eating their meal while the others went about their work. They all knew their tasks, and the sounds and rhythms of the busy ship normally would have