'I beg your pardon, sir; but there is a man lying bad with cramp in
the lee scuppers; and I can't find the doctor.'
He looked at me peeringly in the darkness; and then, somewhat
harshly, 'Well, _I_ can't leave the bridge, my man,' said he.
'No, sir; but you can tell me what to do,' I returned.
'Is it one of the crew?' he asked.
'I believe him to be a fireman,' I replied.
I dare say officers are much annoyed by complaints and alarmist
information from their freight of human creatures; but certainly,
whether it was the idea that the sick man was one of the crew, or
from something conciliatory in my address, the officer in question
was immediately relieved and mollified; and speaking in a voice
much freer from constraint, advised me to find a steward and
despatch him in quest of the doctor, who would now be in the
smoking-room over his pipe.
One of the stewards was often enough to be found about this hour
down our companion, Steerage No. 2 and 3; that was his smoking-room
of a night. Let me call him Blackwood.
