Читать книгу 47 Sorrows - Janet Kellough - Страница 11

Early the next afternoon, after having seen his father off on a steam packet that was returning up the lake, Luke walked along Brock Street to the Hôtel Dieu.

He wasn’t sure who he should talk to, or why he was going to the Catholic hospital, except that he had been impressed by Father Higgins’s declaration of commitment to his ailing parishioners and it appeared that the nuns had instituted a routine that lent at least a little organization to the chaos that engulfed them.

As he entered the building, he was once again struck by the sheer numbers of people the Sisters were looking after, and by the stench that resulted from cramming so many fevered bodies into one small space. He held his breath as much as he could while he searched the rooms for someone to talk to.

Finally, at the end of the hall, he found a black-clad nun in a tiny closet that had been set aside as the hospital’s dispensary. Her face was wrinkled in concentration as she counted the very small number of vials on the makeshift shelves and then made a notation in a large leather-bound book.

“Excuse me,” Luke said, knocking on the open door. “My name is Luke Lewis, and I would like to offer my services as a volunteer.”

He was rewarded with a tight smile, although it did nothing to smooth out the worry lines on the nun’s face.

“Good afternoon. I am Sister Bourbonnière. You are most welcome. As you can see around you, we ’ave far more patients than we ever expected.” Her English was heavily accented, but easily understood.

“I have no formal training in medicine,” Luke said, “but I do have a great deal of experience in rough and ready doctoring.”

“No formal training is necessary, nor is it ’elpful,” she replied. “The doctors appear to ’ave little idea what to do. Our function is to make our patients as comfortable as we can under the circumstances. The rest is in God’s ’ands.”

“I’ll do whatever is required, but I would like the opportunity to observe the doctors, if that’s possible.”

She nodded. “We share our resources with the English ’ospital, although the Female Benevolent Society does most of the feeding and so forth there. Our primary duty is to the people in the ’otel, but the sheds are now full too. We share the nursing for these, and it is at the sheds that you would be most useful. There is a priest there …”

“Father Higgins? Yes, I met him yesterday.”

“Then you must go to the sheds and ask for Father ’iggins. ’E will tell you what is most needed.”

And with a slight smile, she turned back to her ledger.