"If he can only last out until we reach Barbadoes, I believe we might
save him yet; but it is this constant motion which is irritating his
wound, and sapping his life. When do you think we shall get in?"
"To-morrow morning, if the breeze holds," I replied.
"Too late, I am afraid," said my companion, shaking his head. "The
patient is in such a critical state that a few hours more or less may
make all the difference between life and death to him. However, I will
not give him up without a fight. Mr Stuart and I will watch him
through the night, and perhaps you could arrange to stay with him
through the dog-watches, could you?"
"Assuredly," I replied. "I will speak to Mr Flinn about it, and I am
sure he will excuse me."
"Very well, then; that's arranged," said the doctor. "Now run away with
that draught. If the poor boy is still agitated, give it him at once;
if not, keep it by you for the present."
I returned to the cabin, and found that little Six-foot had stopped
crying, and seemed disposed to sleep, so I put the bottle in a place of
safety, and whispered to the skipper the doctor's arrangement.
"All right," he returned. "You remain here. I must go on deck now; and
I will mention to Flinn that you will not be on deck during the dog-
watch."
He stole out on tiptoe, and I was alone with my patient. I settled
myself in a low chair near the cot, and looked out through the stern-
port. The sun was just setting, and the western sky glowed with the
same gorgeous colouring which it had worn on the evening of the funeral.
The sight reminded me of the sad incident, and I wondered whether we
were to have a sadder one yet. I sat for some time lost in mournful
thought, when there was a slight stir in the cot, and I heard little
Fisher's voice say weakly--
"Is that you, Ralph, sitting there? It is so dark I can scarcely make
you out."
"Yes, it is I," I answered cheerfully. "How are you now, Six-foot? You
have had a bit of a snooze, have you not?"
"I believe I _have_ been dozing," he replied. "I seem _very_ weak,
Ralph, and I have scarcely any feeling left in my legs. I fancy I shall
not last many hours longer."
"Oh, nonsense!" I returned. "What has put that idea into your head?
Why, we shall be in Carlisle Bay by sun-rise to-morrow; and then, if you
are strong enough to bear removal, you can have your wish as to going on
shore, you know. And once there, you will _soon_ pull round, old
fellow. No more rolling and knocking about then, Harry; no more
groaning bulkheads; but the quiet and coolness that you have been
longing for, with the sea-breeze, and trees, the birds and butterflies,
and tender women to nurse and pet and make much of you, instead of us
clumsy people. Only think of it! Why, by this time to-morrow you will
feel so much better for the change that you will be wanting to sit up in
bed--or even to turn out, perhaps."
"Oh, no, no," he replied. "I am far worse than you seem to think,
Ralph. Still, I believe I _might_ pull round even yet, if I could but
get ashore."
"Well, look here," said I. "If you are to be moved to-morrow, it is of
the greatest importance that you should have a _good_ night's rest to-
night, so try, like a dear good fellow, to get to sleep again, will you?
Do you feel thirsty?"
"Rather," he replied. "But I seem to want something different from that
stuff that the doctor has mixed for me. If I could only get a little
fruit now--a bit of one of those pines you brought on board at Kingston,
for instance--I believe it would refresh me more than anything else."
"Would it?" said I; "then you shall have it; that is, if the doctor will
allow it; for now that you speak of it, I know the skipper has one or
two pines left, and I am certain you will be heartily welcome to them.
Do you mind being by yourself for a minute or two, while I run to the
doctor, and speak to him about it? All right; I will be back in a
second."
The doctor saw no objection, so we soon had a splendid pine sliced up,
and I held a thin piece to the poor little sufferer's lips. It
refreshed him greatly, and after another draught of the acid mixture he
settled down more comfortably than he had been at all. When I turned
him over to the doctor at last and left the cabin, there seemed to be
some slight improvement in his condition.
In the early dawn of the following morning we anchored in Carlisle Bay,
Barbadoes, and by noon poor little Fisher had been safely conveyed on
shore and lodged in the colonel's residence near Needham Point, where he
would have all the ladies belonging to the garrison to nurse him, and be
conveniently situated for frequent visits from the staff-surgeon.