cigars again. The fumes that you inhale are loaded with a dangerous drug. If you disobey my instructions
you will assuredly end with a cancer of your throat. Have I made myself clear?’
‘Oh yes. Oh yes, dear doctor. I will obey, obey your commands. Please give me the paper.’
‘First, madam, you must give me my fee of three guineas.’
Her face assumed a shocked expression. ‘Dear, clever doctor, you are most ungallant to speak of money to your patient, a lady of distinction, while she is still in her bed. Surely you
understand that your fee will be remitted to you the moment we receive your account.’
‘Madam, I am no Shylock to tear my beard and cry “Give me my ducats”. No, madam, I am a simple country doctor who has several times been swindled by residents of this hotel who
depart without settling their just debts. I therefore have a fixed principle: “No pay, no prescription”.’
She studied him again, seeking a sign of weakness in his stern young face, then in a loud voice she called out: ‘ José, venga aquí .’
Now for the first time, Finlay saw a little boy with dark eyes in a very pale face lying on his stomach on the floorboards in a corner by the window. Now, very stiffly, he got up, stumbled to
the wardrobe, and after opening the door produced a woolen work-bag which he handed to his mistress. As he returned to his corner Finlay noticed, with horror, that under the thin singlet the little
boy’s back was scarred with ugly red weals.
Meanwhile the Señora was fumbling in her bag with an air of distress. Finally she exclaimed: ‘What a pity! Such a nuisance! Dear doctor, is it not embarrassing for me? I find I have
not enough of small “ vueta ” to discharge your account.’
‘Then I will hold your prescription, dear madam, until you actually have the amount you require.’
Again she studied him. Then, without further delay, she handed Finlay three rather dirty pound notes and three separate shillings.
When he had pocketed the cash, Finlay stood up and, with a bow, handed her the prescription.
She accepted it with a shriek. ‘What! No liquid! No medicamenta!’
‘The excellent chemist in the town, madam, will supply your medicine according to my prescription.’
‘Ha! So I must again pay. The English are all cheats!’
‘Scottish, madam,’ Finlay corrected mildly, turning towards the door which the small boy had already opened for him.
As he entered the passage and the door closed behind him he felt that he had a shadow behind him. Turning, he saw that the boy had followed him out of the room.
‘Señor doctor, I implore you, please heal my wounds.’
Finlay could not resist this pitiful appeal. He removed the boy’s shirt, then gazed in horror at the deep, raw weals that had broken the skin and cut almost to the bone.
‘Who did this?’
‘The master, doctor sir. When I do not please the mistress she reports to her husband.’
Finlay studied the boy in silence. The child was undernourished to the point of emaciation. And pitifully beaten.
Finlay did not reflect even for a moment. Wrapping his coat round the boy’s shoulders, he led him into the lift, then quickly through the swing doors and out into his car. As they drove
off, the boy crouched beside Finlay shaking with tears of joy.
‘How come you understand English?’
‘I study greatly at school, señor, hoping to run away to an English family.’
‘To escape the flogging?’
‘It is not always flogging. I leave to get food.’
‘Don’t they feed you at the hotel?’
‘I am not registered at the hotel, señor. I eat only what madame leave on her plate. If nothing, I lick plate.’
Dear God, thought Finlay. Could anything be worse? He was silent until he reached home, then lifting the child gently from the car he carried him into the kitchen. ‘Janet, dear, this poor
little boy has been maltreated and starved. I see you have porridge on the hob, please give him a big plateful with lots of
you will assuredly end with a cancer of your throat. Have I made myself clear?’
‘Oh yes. Oh yes, dear doctor. I will obey, obey your commands. Please give me the paper.’
‘First, madam, you must give me my fee of three guineas.’
Her face assumed a shocked expression. ‘Dear, clever doctor, you are most ungallant to speak of money to your patient, a lady of distinction, while she is still in her bed. Surely you
understand that your fee will be remitted to you the moment we receive your account.’
‘Madam, I am no Shylock to tear my beard and cry “Give me my ducats”. No, madam, I am a simple country doctor who has several times been swindled by residents of this hotel who
depart without settling their just debts. I therefore have a fixed principle: “No pay, no prescription”.’
She studied him again, seeking a sign of weakness in his stern young face, then in a loud voice she called out: ‘ José, venga aquí .’
Now for the first time, Finlay saw a little boy with dark eyes in a very pale face lying on his stomach on the floorboards in a corner by the window. Now, very stiffly, he got up, stumbled to
the wardrobe, and after opening the door produced a woolen work-bag which he handed to his mistress. As he returned to his corner Finlay noticed, with horror, that under the thin singlet the little
boy’s back was scarred with ugly red weals.
Meanwhile the Señora was fumbling in her bag with an air of distress. Finally she exclaimed: ‘What a pity! Such a nuisance! Dear doctor, is it not embarrassing for me? I find I have
not enough of small “ vueta ” to discharge your account.’
‘Then I will hold your prescription, dear madam, until you actually have the amount you require.’
Again she studied him. Then, without further delay, she handed Finlay three rather dirty pound notes and three separate shillings.
When he had pocketed the cash, Finlay stood up and, with a bow, handed her the prescription.
She accepted it with a shriek. ‘What! No liquid! No medicamenta!’
‘The excellent chemist in the town, madam, will supply your medicine according to my prescription.’
‘Ha! So I must again pay. The English are all cheats!’
‘Scottish, madam,’ Finlay corrected mildly, turning towards the door which the small boy had already opened for him.
As he entered the passage and the door closed behind him he felt that he had a shadow behind him. Turning, he saw that the boy had followed him out of the room.
‘Señor doctor, I implore you, please heal my wounds.’
Finlay could not resist this pitiful appeal. He removed the boy’s shirt, then gazed in horror at the deep, raw weals that had broken the skin and cut almost to the bone.
‘Who did this?’
‘The master, doctor sir. When I do not please the mistress she reports to her husband.’
Finlay studied the boy in silence. The child was undernourished to the point of emaciation. And pitifully beaten.
Finlay did not reflect even for a moment. Wrapping his coat round the boy’s shoulders, he led him into the lift, then quickly through the swing doors and out into his car. As they drove
off, the boy crouched beside Finlay shaking with tears of joy.
‘How come you understand English?’
‘I study greatly at school, señor, hoping to run away to an English family.’
‘To escape the flogging?’
‘It is not always flogging. I leave to get food.’
‘Don’t they feed you at the hotel?’
‘I am not registered at the hotel, señor. I eat only what madame leave on her plate. If nothing, I lick plate.’
Dear God, thought Finlay. Could anything be worse? He was silent until he reached home, then lifting the child gently from the car he carried him into the kitchen. ‘Janet, dear, this poor
little boy has been maltreated and starved. I see you have porridge on the hob, please give him a big plateful with lots of
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