That pulled all their eyes to him. His gaze lingered on Gemma. She looked weary but not afraid. With his mind at ease on that score, he moved toward his young patient. He took Mr. Sorokin’s place, kneeling beside the sofa. He felt the girl’s wrist, searching for a pulse. “Tell me what you can of her condition.”

“She’s been feverish a couple days,” Mr. Sorokin said. “And today she’s had no energy, no strength.”

“Fever’s been rising since arriving here,” Gemma said. “The cool cloths ain’t helping overly much.”

Barnabus felt her face. She was quite warm. He checked her neck for swelling. “Has she mentioned pain in her throat?”

The little boy nodded, his expression heavy with worry. “Mentioned her throat, she did. I ain’t seen her sick like this.”

Barnabus pulled from his doctoring bag a vial of powders and gave quick instructions to Vera on how to prepare them for the girl.

“A honey tea would soothe her throat,” he added. “I suspect she’s not been eating on account of her throat hurting. But not eating and drinking has left her weak. A weakened body struggles to fight off illness.”

“We’ve been struggling to stay dry and warm lately,” Mr. Sorokin said. “That likely hasn’t helped.”

Barnabus shook his head. “It likely hasn’t. If you aren’t opposed to the idea, you ought to stay here with her for a few days. She’d be warm and comfortable. The powders should break her fever, and the honey tea will alleviate her throat pain. Get her eating again, drinking water and weak tea, and she’ll recover quickly.”

“She can use the room I’ve been in,” Gemma said. “The room stays warm, and the pallet’s comfortable.”

“I can take her upstairs,” Brogan said. “We’ll see her settled.”

The girl opened her eyes enough to look at Barnabus. “Mr. Sorokin says you’re the doctor who saves people from the bullyboys.”

Barnabus nodded. “I do what I can to save people from whatever’s troubling them, whether it’s the sniffles or the snatchers.”

She smiled weakly. “People talk about you. Most think you’re a hero.”

He could guess which ones didn’t. Being despised by people who hurt the vulnerable was, in his estimation, a badge of honor.

Brogan carefully lifted the girl from the sofa and followed Gemma out of the room and, no doubt, up the stairs. The little boy followed them. Vera had already left to see to the powders and tea Barnabus had prescribed.

He and Mr. Sorokin remained in the sitting room. He didn’t know the man well—not at all, really—but he knew the vital role he had played in safeguarding these children. They were, without question, Licorice and Olly, the two urchins who needed protection from the Mastiff.