We had a grand picnic at the beautiful fountain at
Villa Nova, where I entertained the officers of the
"Firebrand" with a lamb roasted whole, some pale
ale, and sundry panniersful of water-melons and
grapes from the neighbouring village.
On remounting our mules to return, the more adventurous of the party attempted, greatly to the horror of the muleteers, to ride cross-country. The case of Midshipman versus Mule was extremely well argued on both sides, and in spite of wooden pack- saddles, chain bridles, and rope stirrups. Midshipman generally succeeded in carrying his point by the persuasive influence of a big stick.
After staying one day, the "Firebrand" left us. The next morning, to my great concern and dismay, Lord Carlisle became alarmingly ill. I sent for the doctor of the Quarantine, an Italian enjoying some repute at Rhodes, who, after watching his patient for three days, pronounced the disease to be small-pox. I immediately wrote to Smyrna for Dr. McCraith, who, I am happy to say, arrived by the next steamer. The first fortnight of the illness was an anxious time for me; for I very soon perceived that the Italian doctor, alarmed at having so great a charge as the life of an English Milord in his hands, grew nervous and indecisive in his measures. Fortunately the disease is one which is often best let alone; and thus the strenna inertia of the Rhodian Hippokrates probably saved Lord Carlisle's life.
When Dr. McCraith arrived, lie found his patient rapidly approaching convalescence, and after a glance at him, ordered a roast partridge and a glass of sherry.
