"No one hurt."
I saw Mr Frewen close his eyes at this, and his lips moved as I felt
sure in prayer.
"Yes?" I whispered back, as Mr Preddle said something which sounded
all buzz, buzz, buzz.
"I say, what will those wretches do with us?"
"I don't know."
"Will they kill us and throw us overboard?"
"No," I whispered through. "If they had meant that, they would have
done it at once. But don't talk any more now."
"Buzz, buzz, buzz."
"What say?"
"Buzz, talk, buzz, buzz."
I opened my penknife, for I knew that the reason why Mr Preddle's words
sounded so buzzy, was that a lot of little bits of wood were sticking up
through the hole left by the gimlet. And so it proved, for after a
little cutting all the words sounded clearly enough, and he promised to
wait till I had attended to Mr Frewen's injuries before asking any more
questions.
"Yes," he said, "I'll wait; but when one is in prison, and can talk to
the prisoners next door, it does seem to do one good."
I had just knelt down to see to Mr Frewen's head, when I heard my name
pronounced again.
"Yes," I cried impatiently, "what is it?"
"Only a word," said Mr Preddle.
"Quick, then."
"You were out on the deck some time, weren't you?"
"Yes; a long time," I replied impatiently. "Why?"
"Could you see how my poor fishes were getting on?"
"No, I couldn't," I said gruffly, for my temper was as sore as my body
just then, and Mr Preddle irritated me; he did seem so girlish and
weak.
"Now, Mr Frewen," I said, "tell me what to do to your head."
"Leave it alone," he said, smiling, "or no, perhaps you had better do
something to it; I shall be better and stronger, and I want all my
strength now."
"To help get back the ship?" I said.
"Yes, of course. Now then, my lad," he continued, "you must think that
you are a surgeon's mate or dresser." I nodded.
"You will not mind?"
"Of course not, sir."
"Then go to that drawer, and you will find scissors, lint, bandages, and
strapping."
I went to the drawer, and there, neatly arranged, were the articles he
had described, in company with many more.
"Now get water, sponge, and towel," he said, and this I did.
"Now go to work and cut away the hair, so that you can see what damage
is done."
"But I'm afraid--"
"What?"
"Of hurting you."
"Then set that aside, boy," he said, smiling. "A surgeon must take all
the care he can, but he must not be afraid of hurting his patient. Go
on."
It was not quite my first surgical experiment, for I had bound up cut
fingers before then, and once roughly tended to the broken arm of a
school-fellow, who had fallen in climbing a tree, though my attention
merely consisted in laying the arm straight and bandaging it with a
woollen comforter, while the doctor was fetched; but all the same I felt
very hot, nervous, and uncomfortable, as, in following out Mr Frewen's
instructions, I cut away the hair, bathed the place, and told him
exactly what I saw, horrible as it was.
"Pooh!" he said, with a little laugh. "A mere scratch. Why, if it were
a patient I was attending--you, for instance--I should say you were
making a miserable fuss about nothing."
"But it is very bad, sir," I said. "Why, you were quite insensible."
"Yes, Dale, that was the contusion. One of the chests must have been
driven against my head like a square shot. Well, there's one comfort,
the skull isn't cracked. Now cut some strips of that plaister, and
place them across and across."
I followed out his instructions, and ended by laying some lint over the
wound and securing all with a neatly sewn on bandage.
He turned very pale twice over as I was busy, and, in obedience to a
whisper, I took down a bottle and measured out some of its contents,
afterwards administering the dose in water.
"Not pleasant stuff, Dale," he said, smiling feebly, "and it's rather
hard lines, as you lads would call it, for a doctor to have to take his
own stuff; but you see I have a nasty crack, and if I had not been a
particularly thick-headed sort of fellow, I'm afraid I should not have
wanted another."
"What is that you have taken?" I asked. "Only ammonia--sal volatile--a
capital stimulus when faintness comes on. There, I'm better now, and I
dare say I shall do. I can examine you now. Ribs broken, eh?"
"I thought so, sir."
"And I'm sure you are wrong, my lad. If your ribs, or even one rib, had
been fractured, you could not have gone on working for me like that.
You would have been in agony."
"Well, it does hurt pretty tidily, sir."
"Perhaps so, Dale, but not to the extent it would under those
circumstances. There, I'm better now. Help me to sit up." I helped
him, and he turned ghastly.
"Feel faint, sir?" I said.
"Horrible, Dale, but I will master it. This is no time for giving way
like a young lady in a hot room. There, that's better. Nothing like
making a fight for it. Come."
"Oh no; I'm not very much hurt, sir," I cried. "Wait till you are
easier."
"Come closer," he said firmly. "Off with your jacket, and open the neck
of your shirt."
I obeyed him unwillingly, and making another determined effort to master
the faintness from which he suffered, he carefully examined my chest and
side, giving me such intense pain the while that I too felt sick, and
would gladly have prescribed for myself a draught of the medicine he had
taken.
"There," he cried at last, "that's perfectly satisfactory. No ribs
broken, Dale, but you had a tremendous blow there from the nearest box.
It's a wonder that we were not killed."
"Then I shan't want strapping or bandaging, sir?"
"No; I'll give you some arnica to bathe the place with. You'll have
some terrible bruises all up your side, but that will be all. Now then,
my lad, that we have repaired damages, the next thing is to see what we
can do for other people."
"Yes, and about re-taking the ship," I said excitedly, though I could
not then see the slightest chance of success.