The
thought of his cabin civility and cabin tips filled me with
indignation. I glanced at O'Reilly; he was pale and quivering, and
looked like assault and battery, every inch of him. But we had a
better card than violence.
'You will have to make it your business,' said I, 'for I am sent to
you by the officer on the bridge.'
Blackwood was fairly tripped. He made no answer, but put out his
pipe, gave me one murderous look, and set off upon his errand
strolling. From that day forward, I should say, he improved to me
in courtesy, as though he had repented his evil speech and were
anxious to leave a better impression.
When we got on deck again, Jones was still beside the sick man; and
two or three late stragglers had gathered round, and were offering
suggestions. One proposed to give the patient water, which was
promptly negatived. Another bade us hold him up; he himself prayed
to be let lie; but as it was at least as well to keep him off the
streaming decks, O'Reilly and I supported him between us. It was
only by main force that we did so, and neither an easy nor an
agreeable duty; for he fought in his paroxysms like a frightened
child, and moaned miserably when he resigned himself to our
control.
'O let me lie!' he pleaded. 'I'll no' get better anyway.' And
then, with a moan that went to my heart, 'O why did I come upon
this miserable journey?'
I was reminded of the song which I had heard a little while before
in the close, tossing steerage: 'O why left I my hame?'
Meantime Jones, relieved of his immediate charge, had gone off to
the galley, where we could see a light. There he found a belated
cook scouring pans by the radiance of two lanterns, and one of
these he sought to borrow. The scullion was backward. 'Was it one
of the crew?' he asked. And when Jones, smitten with my theory,
had assured him that it was a fireman, he reluctantly left his
scouring and came towards us at an easy pace, with one of the
lanterns swinging from his finger. The light, as it reached the
spot, showed us an elderly man, thick-set, and grizzled with years;
but the shifting and coarse shadows concealed from us the
expression and even the design of his face.
So soon as the cook set eyes on him he gave a sort of whistle.
'IT'S ONLY A PASSENGER!' said he; and turning about, made, lantern
and all, for the galley.
'He's a man anyway,' cried Jones in indignation.
'Nobody said he was a woman,' said a gruff voice, which I
recognised for that of the bo's'un.
All this while there was no word of Blackwood or the doctor; and
now the officer came to our side of the ship and asked, over the
hurricane-deck rails, if the doctor were not yet come.
