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Back Cottages of Fox Estate, ~5:40am Monday May 6th, 1771


It had not taken long for Maggie and her long stride to fall in with the Doctor and his faithful servant, catching them up before they'd left the lawn. Passing along and then through the looming wall of yew hedging it was hard to hold conversation among the racket of blackbirds, thrushes and all kinds of tits, pipits and small flitting things that dwelt amongst tree branches and shrubbery, even forgetting the harsh bugle calls of cockrels nearer he cottages; they'd given up and walked together like garden party promenaders at an inverse hour, succoured only by the cool damp air.

They'd come in to find most of the Stones in a huddle of discussion whilst Granny Stone tried to get Jim to remember what gruel was and why it should matter to him. The youth did eat, if haltingly and mechanically, quietly ceasing when the visitors' presence distracted his encouragement. Gently persuaded that Mistress Yendale was here to help the Doctor, the family let the two take Jim into the converted passage that served as his room with a bowl of boiled water and nervous assurances that anything else called for would be brought.

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Jim sits on his bed, mildly feverish and not looking at any of them. Polzeath has scented spirits of wine and the bleeding bowl out ready on the floor. Conversation murmurs out in the main room, no words rising clearly from the babble but currents of trouble and worry and relief that the wayward son is home, at least, seep in with meaning enough.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:04, Mon 14 Aug 2023.

Maggie greets the Stone family members respectfully, especially Granny, giving due deference to her age.

In Jim’s room she sets aside her shawl and game bag. Giving precedence to Doctor, she abides silently by the door, her eyes earnestly searching Jim for any sign of anything that ails him. Though never boisterous, he seems unusually depressed in spirits.

Indeed, the loser of the duel does seem to be taking it pretty hard that God and Justice had not brought his desperate gamble to success, though he had staked his life upon it as much (or moreso) as Fox. He also seems to be intermittently shivering still, and has probably slept badly if at all in the village cell.

Out in the main room, Maggie hears Robin come in with whatever rustling things he'd been sent to find - Granny talks to him, but he sounds somewhat perturbed that his friend has been hastened off.

[[realised I'd lost Robin - found him! The edit to the first post was just me fixing the banner formatting.]]

Doctor Lovelace says "Right, let us see what the wound looks like. How are you feeling, a little feverish perhaps by the look of it. Take your shirt off so I can see, I suspect that it needs draining."

Jim makes some awkward movements of his head at the request for self-assessment, as though words were some polyhedral shape stuck somewhere in his chest or throat by the corners, but swiftly gives up without even his usual 'thinking' motion of rocking back and forth at the torso and strips off his shirt. Polzeath flinches a little before the shirt is off, swallowing hard in preparation: Martin catches the stink coming through the binding moments later and realises he was right about the infection fomenting a purulence, and doubly so about not sealing it into the skin.

It's going to be unpleasant, draining the wound, but since the lad is upright and mobile it seems likely the infection is disinclined to spread back into the depths of the original blade injury to kill him. Handled carefully, this should be the greatest extent of the issue. Jim doesn't look at the Doctor or anyone, seeming unable to though otherwise calm and passive as a corpse.