"Why, I thought I heard somebody singin' out, somewheres. Ay, I was
right," he continued, as a faint "Hillo!" came pealing softly across the
darkling surface of the water.
"Hillo!" answered Leslie, sending a stentorian shout ahead through his
hollow hands.
"Boat ahoy!" came the answering shout.
"Give way briskly, men," cried Leslie; "the sound seems to be coming
from straight ahead. We shall get a sight of something now in a few
minutes."
The men resumed their pulling with a will, encouraged by the fact that
the shouts kept up by the unseen man were rapidly becoming clearer, more
audible, and evidently nearer. Suddenly a dark mass loomed up ahead and
another cry told them that they were close aboard the wreckage.
"Oars!" commanded Leslie. The men ceased pulling, and the individual
upon the wreckage shouted--
"Boat ahoy! you'll have to pull right round this raffle, and come up on
t'other side afore you'll be able to take me off. You can't get
alongside of me from where you are; there's too much yard-arm and
splintered spar stickin' out in that direction. And I daren't jump
overboard and swim to you, for I've been blockaded all day by sharks--
see, there's one of them now, close alongside of ye!"
And looking over the side, the crew of the boat beheld, revealed as a
shape of fire in the highly phosphorescent sea, a monster of fully
twenty feet in length or more, swimming rapidly along, a few feet below
the surface; while, some half-a-dozen yards away, a second suddenly
revealed his presence.
"All right," answered Leslie, "stay where you are; we will pull round to
the other side."
So said, so done; and five minutes later they had got the man--the only
occupant of the wreckage as it proved--safe aboard the boat, and were
pulling back towards the brig, now barely discernible as a small, faint,
indistinct dark blot against the blue-black, star-spangled sky, with her
anchor light hoisted to the gaff-end as a guide to the returning rescue
party.
The rescued man proved to be--as Leslie had already guessed from the
fellow's manner of speech--one of the foremast hands of the _Golden
Fleece_. Like Leslie, he had been dragged under when the ship went
down, but in his downward journey had encountered what proved to be a
loose cork fender, to which he had clung desperately. The buoyancy of
the fender was sufficient to immediately check his descent into the
depths, and ultimately to take him back to the surface, where he found
himself close alongside a mass of top-hamper, consisting of the ship's
fore-topmast with all attached, that had torn itself adrift from the
wreck when she went down; and to this he had at once swam, and taken
refuge upon it. He told a pathetic tale of the despair that had seized
him, when, at dawn, he had found himself the sole survivor, as he
supposed, of the catastrophe; and of the alternations of hope and
despair that had been his throughout the day when the brig appeared in
sight, drifted up to within three short miles of him, and there lay
becalmed. The most distressing part of his experience, perhaps,
consisted in the fact that, although an excellent swimmer, and quite
capable of covering the distance between himself and the brig, he had
found himself beset by a school of sharks, and therefore dared not
forsake the refuge of the wreckage, and take to the water.
Upon the return of the boat to the brig, Leslie learned from the mate
that Potter was still in his bunk, and that the dazed feeling resulting
from the blow that he had sustained when thrown against the rail still
seemed to be as acute as ever. Purchas, indeed, seemed to be growing
rather anxious about him; and eagerly inquired of Leslie whether the
latter happened to know anything about medicine; as he thought the time
had arrived when something ought to be done to help the man back to his
senses. Medicine, however, was a branch of science about which Leslie
happened to know little or nothing; but he readily acceded to Purchas's
suggestion that he should have a look at the patient; and accordingly--
although by this time a substantial meal was set out upon the brig's
cabin table, and the ex-lieutenant felt himself quite prepared to do
ample justice to it--he forthwith descended to the cabin in which the
skipper was lying; and, having knocked at the door without getting a
reply, entered.
It was the same cabin in which he himself had enjoyed some hours of
sleep after his long spell in the water, and Potter was lying stretched
at full length upon the bunk that he had previously occupied. A small
oil lamp, screwed to the bulkhead, afforded a fairly good light, by the
aid of which Leslie saw that the man was lying with his eyes wide-open,
and the eyeballs turned slightly upward, apparently staring at the deck
above him. But the gaze was without intelligence; and the fellow
appeared to be quite unconscious of his surroundings, for he took no
notice whatever of Leslie's entrance; nor did the eyes waver in the
least when the latter spoke to him, Leslie laid his hand upon the
forehead of his late antagonist, and found it cool to the touch,
although clammy with perspiration. Then he laid his fingers upon the
man's wrist, and felt for his pulse, which appeared to be normal.
Beyond the dazed condition which the man exhibited, there did not appear
to be much the matter with him; and when at length Leslie left him and
entered the main cabin--at the table of which he found Purchas and Miss
Trevor seated, discussing the viands before them--he said as much;
adding his opinion that the condition in which he found the skipper
would probably end in sleep, and that the man would no doubt be all
right in the morning. The conversation then turned to other matters,
the mate remarking that he supposed the skipper's indisposition meant an
all-night job on deck for him (the mate); whereupon Leslie expressed his
readiness to take charge of a watch until Potter should be able to
resume duty--an offer which Purchas gladly accepted. It was arranged
that, as the preceding night had been a very trying one for Leslie, he
should take the middle watch; and accordingly, when the meal was over,
as Miss Trevor, pleading fatigue, retired to the cabin that Potter had
given up to her, Leslie sought the seclusion of his quarters in the
longboat, which had been made ready for him, and was soon wrapped in
sound and dreamless sleep.
He was called at midnight by Purchas, who reported to him with some
uneasiness that there was no change in the skipper's condition. The
night was still beautifully fine, and the weather a flat calm; there was
therefore nothing calling for Leslie's immediate attention, and he
readily assented to Purchas's urgent solicitation that he should take
another look at the patient, and say what he thought of his condition.
Upon descending to the stuffy little cabin he found that, as the mate
had reported, there was no marked change in Potter's condition; he still
lay, as before, without movement, his unseeing eyes upturned, and
apparently quite unconscious of the presence of the two men who bent
over him. The only difference noticeable to Leslie was that the man's
breathing seemed to be somewhat stertorous.
"Well, what d'ye think of him?" anxiously demanded Purchas, when at
length Leslie raised himself from his examination.
"To be quite candid with you, Purchas," answered Leslie, "I scarcely
know what to think; but I am afraid the man's condition is somewhat more
serious than I thought it to be when I last visited him. I must confess
that I do not like this long spell of wakefulness combined with
unconsciousness of his surroundings. What is actually wrong I am sorry
that I cannot say, but the symptoms appear to me to point to an injury
of the brain. You have a medicine-chest on board, I suppose?"
"Oh yes," answered Purchas. "It is in the skipper's cabin."
"Um!" remarked Leslie. "That is awkward. We cannot very well gain
access to it just now without disturbing Miss Trevor; and I do not think
that the case is urgent enough to demand that we should do that. But
to-morrow morning, as soon as the young lady is out of her cabin, we
will get that medicine-chest and overhaul the book of directions that I
have no doubt we shall find in it; and perhaps we shall discover a
description of symptoms somewhat similar to those exhibited by your
skipper. And, if so, we will try the remedies recommended. Now I would
advise you to turn in; and don't worry about the skipper, for I have no
doubt that we shall be able to pull him round all right. And perhaps
this will be a lesson to him to keep his temper under somewhat better
control."
"Well, I'm sure I hope it will," answered Purchas. "If it does that, I
shan't be sorry that this has happened; for I can tell you, Mr Leslie,
that when the `old man' gets his back up, as he did this afternoon,
things grow pretty excitin' aboard this hooker. Well, good night; and
if anything happens atween this and eight bells, you might give me a
call--not but what I expect you're a far better sailor-man than what I
am."
"Oh, that's all right," laughed Leslie; "I think you may trust me to
take care of this three-decker of yours. But if anything happens, and I
find myself at a loss, I will not fail to call you. Good night!"
And, so saying, Leslie left the cabin and, making his way up on deck,
took a sailor-like look at the brilliantly star-lit sky that stretched
cloudless all round the brig from zenith to horizon, as he thoughtfully
filled and lit his pipe.
To tell the truth, he was less easy in his mind touching Potter's
condition than he had allowed Purchas to see. That the man was
something more than merely stunned was now undeniable; and although the
injury might not in itself be serious, the complete ignorance of Purchas
and himself in relation to medical and surgical matters might possibly
lead to wrong treatment that, in its turn, might result in complications
ending, who could say where? Of course the man had only himself to
thank for it; his conduct had been provocative to the last degree; yet
Leslie had been animated by no vindictive feeling when he had attacked
the man, still less had he intended to inflict any serious injury upon
him; he had, indeed, acted solely in self-defence in taking the fellow's
revolver away from him; and as to the violence that had accompanied the
act--well he himself considered it perfectly excusable under the
circumstances; and so, he believed, would any unprejudiced person.
Nevertheless, he regretted the incident; he would much rather that it
had not happened; and while dismissing the subject from his mind, for
the moment, he resolved that henceforth he would keep himself much
better in hand in his dealings with the man.
The calm continued throughout Leslie's watch; and when at eight bells he
turned over the charge of the deck to Purchas, the brig, save for an
occasional lazy and almost imperceptible heave on the now invisible
swell, was as motionless as a house.
When, however, Purchas called him at seven bells--thus allowing him time
to wash and dress in readiness for breakfast at eight o'clock, Leslie
found, upon turning out, that while the morning was as gloriously fine
as the preceding night had been, the brilliant blue of the sky overhead
was streaked here and there with light touches of cirrus cloud, the
forerunners of a breeze that was already wrinkling the surface of the
azure sea and causing it to sparkle as though strewed with diamond dust
in the wake of the sun, while it just filled the brig's sails
sufficiently to keep them asleep and give the old tub steerage-way. The
watch were just finishing off the task of washing decks; the men going
over the streaming planks with swabs and squeegees, to remove the
superfluous water, while Purchas, sitting on the stern grating, was
drying his bare feet with a towel preparatory to drawing on his socks
and shoes. Miss Trevor was not visible.
The mate, having bade Leslie good morning, proceeded to inform him that
the breeze, which was breathing out from the eastward, had come up with
the sun, and that he hoped it would freshen as the day grew older;
winding up with an earnest aspiration that it would last long enough to
run them into the "Trades." Then, having donned his foot coverings, he
drew Leslie aside, out of hearing of the helmsman, to impart the
information that, having visited the "old man's" cabin an hour
previously, he had found him no better, and that he was beginning to
feel "downright anxious" about him.
Hearing this, Leslie proposed that they should both go down together, to
investigate Potter's condition; and Purchas eagerly acquiescing, they
presently found themselves once more bending over the sick man.
As the mate had said, there was no perceptible change in the skipper's
appearance, save that, as Leslie thought, his breathing was a trifle
more stertorous. He was lying in precisely the same attitude that he
had assumed when first placed in the bunk; indeed, the two men agreed
that, so far as they could see, he had not moved a limb from that
moment. While they stood there together, discussing the man's
disconcerting condition, faint rustling, as of garments, outside the
cabin door, accompanied by light footsteps upon the companion ladder,
apprised them of the fact that Miss Trevor was moving, and had gone on
deck; whereupon Leslie went out and followed her. He found her standing
just to windward of the companion, gazing with visible delight at the
brilliant and sparkling scene around her. She had evidently rested
well, for she looked as fresh and wholesome as the morning itself; and
although her costume was somewhat shrunken, and showed here and there
patches of whitish discolouration from its long immersion in the sea,
she still presented a picture of grace calculated to charm the most
fastidious eye.
Lifting his cap, Leslie stepped forward and greeted her, bidding her
good morning, and remarking that he hoped she had slept as well as her
appearance seemed to suggest; to which she replied, laughingly, that she
had, and that she hoped she could return the compliment.
"Oh yes," answered Leslie; "I have slept admirably, thanks. I have had
eight hours in, and four hours--the four hours of the middle watch--on
deck, having undertaken to stand watch and watch with Purchas during the
skipper's indisposition, the mention of which brings me to the point of
asking you, Miss Trevor, whether you will permit me to enter your cabin
for the purpose of removing a medicine-chest that, I understand from the
mate, is there."
"Yes, certainly," assented the girl, "you may enter it at once, if you
wish, Mr Leslie. I have tidied it up myself this morning, and intend
to do so regularly in future; it will provide me with something to do.
But you spoke of Captain Potter's indisposition. Is he unwell, then?"
"Why, yes," said Leslie; "he appears to be. The fact is, that he has
not yet recovered from the blow that he received yesterday evening when
he forced upon me the disagreeable necessity to disarm him. He has lain
unconscious the whole night through, without moving so much as a muscle,
so far as one can see; and, to tell you the whole truth, Purchas and I
are beginning to feel more than a trifle uneasy about him. Hence my
request for permission to have access to the medicine-chest."
"Oh dear, I am _so_ sorry," exclaimed the girl, a note of concern at
once entering her voice. "Pray go at once, Mr Leslie, I beg, and do
whatever you may deem necessary. I _hope_ it will not prove that the
captain is seriously injured; it will be so--so--very--embarrassing for
you."
"Well," answered Leslie, "of course I should be very sorry if, as you
say, anything serious were to happen; but, even so, the man will only
have himself to thank for it."
And, with this attempt to justify himself, Leslie raised his cap again,
and vanished down the companion-way.
As his footsteps sounded on the companion ladder, Purchas emerged from
the cabin occupied by Potter, and joined him.