Part 4 (1/2)

”What!” cried Fitz. ”Why, you told me just now that he was the skipper of this schooner.”

”Well, so he is. But I say, don't you worry about asking questions.

Couldn't you drink a cup of tea?”

”I don't know; I dare say I could. Yes, I should like one. But never mind about that now. I don't quite understand why Captain Glossop should send me on board this schooner. This is not the Liverpool Hospital s.h.i.+p, is it?”

”Oh no.”

”How many sick people have you got on board?”

”None at all,” said the lad, ”now you are getting well.”

Fitz lay looking at the speaker wistfully. There was something about his frank face and manner that he liked.

”I don't understand,” he said sadly. ”It's all a puzzle, and I suppose it is all as you say through being so ill.”

”Yes, of course. That's it, old chap. I say, you don't mind me calling you 'old chap,' do you?”

”Well, no,” said Fitz, smiling sadly. ”You mean it kindly, I suppose.”

”Well, I want to be kind to you, seeing how bad you've been. I thought one day you were going to Davy Jones's locker, as the sailors call it.”

”Was I so bad as that?” cried Fitz eagerly.

”Yes, horrid. Father and I felt frightened, because it would have been so serious; but there, I won't say another word. I am going to get you some tea.”

The invalid made an effort to stay him, but the lad paid no heed-- hurrying out of the cabin and shutting the door quietly after him, leaving Fitz deep in thought.

He lay with his white face wrinkled up, trying hard, in spite of what had been said, to think out what it all meant, but always with his thoughts tending towards his head rolling round in a mill and getting no farther; in fact, it seemed to be going round again for about the nth time, as mathematicians term it, when the cabin-door once more opened, and his attendant bore in a steaming hot cup of tea, to be closely followed by a bluff-looking, middle-aged man, sun-browned, bright-eyed and alert, dressed in semi-naval costume, and looking like a well-to-do yachtsman.

He smiled pleasantly as he gave a searching look at the invalid, and sat down at once upon a chair close to the lad's pillow, leaning over to touch his brow and then feel his pulse.

”Bravo!” he said. ”Capital!--Humph! So you are thinking I don't look like a doctor, eh?”

”Yes,” replied Fitz sharply. ”How did you know that?”

”Because it is written in big letters all over your face. Why, you are getting quite a new man, and we will have you on deck in a day or two.”

”Thank you,” said Fitz. ”It is very good of you to pay so much attention to an invalid. I knew you were not a doctor because your son here said so; but you seem to have done me a great deal of good, and I hope you think I am grateful. I am sure Captain Glossop will be very much obliged.”

”Humph!” said the skipper dryly. ”I hope he will. But there, try your tea. I dare say it will do you good.”

As he spoke the skipper pa.s.sed one muscular arm gently under the boy's shoulders and raised him up, while his son bent forward with the tea.

”Thank you,” said Fitz, ”but there was no need for that. I could have-- Oh, how ridiculous to be so weak as this!”

”Oh, not at all,” said the skipper. ”Why, you have been days and days without any food--no coal in your bunkers, my lad. How could you expect your engines to go?”

”What!” cried Fitz. ”Days and days! Wasn't I taken ill yesterday?”