Part 28 (1/2)
”He's on the verge of it. I know something of this subject. I've studied it a lot. A common sign is when one fancy occupies a man's brain. Henshaw has two of them. One is what an old soothsayer told him: that he would die by fire at sea; the other is his love for this girl.
Between the two, he's in bad shape. Remember that he's an old man.”
”You're right, sir; and I'll do it. It may not be legal, but we can't stop for law in a case like this.”
McTee nodded and went back to Henshaw, whom he found walking the cabin with a step surprisingly elastic and quick.
”Go back and send another message,” he called. ”I made a mistake. I didn't send one that was strong enough. They may not understand. What I should have said was--”
”I made it twice as strong as the way you put it,” said McTee; and he repeated his phrasing of the message with some exaggeration.
The lean hand of the captain wrung his.
”You're a good lad, McTee--a fine fellow. Stand by me. You'd never guess how my brain is on fire; the old devil of a soothsayer was right.
But that message you sent will bring those deadheaded doctors to life.
Ah, McTee, if I were only there for a minute in spirit, I could restore her to life--yes, one minute!”
”Of course you could. But in the meantime, for a change of thought, suppose you finish that order you were about to write out and send to Campbell.”
”What order?”
”About Harrigan.”
”Who the devil is Harrigan?”
McTee drew a deep breath and answered quietly: ”The man you ordered to work in the hole. Here's the paper and your pen.”
He placed them in the hands of the captain, but the latter held them idly.
”It's the frail ones who are carried off by the white plague. Am I right?”
”No, you're wrong. The frail ones sometimes have a better chance than the husky people. Look at the number of athletes who are carried away by it!”
”G.o.d bless you, McTee!”
”The strength that counts is the strength of spirit, and this girl has your own fighting spirit.”
”Do you think so?”
”Yes; I saw it in her eyes.”
Henshaw shook his head sadly.
”No; they're the eyes of her grandmother, and she had no fighting spirit. I think I married her more for pity than for love. Her grandmother died by that same disease, McTee.”
The latter gave up the struggle and spent an hour soothing the excited old man. When he managed to escape, he went up and down the deck breathing deeply of the fresh air. For the moment Harrigan was safe, but it would not be long before he would force Henshaw to deliver the order. Into this reverie broke the voice of Jerry Hovey.
”Beg your pardon, Captain McTee.”
The Scotchman turned to the bos'n with the smile still softening his stern lips.