"I'll do my best. Don't bother yourself," said Percival, cheerfully. And accordingly he presented himself at an early hour in the other sleeping-place, and addressed Brian in a very matter of fact tone.
"Your leg must be seen to this morning. I shall make a poor substitute for Jackson, I'm afraid; but I think I shall do it better than Pollard or Fenwick."
"I've no doubt of that," said the man with the brown beard and bright, quick eyes. "Thank you."
And that was all that passed between them.
It was wonderful to see the determined, unsparing way in which Percival worked that day. His energy never flagged. He was a little less good-tempered than usual; the upright black line in his forehead was very marked, and his utterances were not always amiable. But he succeeded in his object; he made himself so thoroughly tired that he slept as soon as his head touched his hard pillow, and did not wake until the sun was high in the heaven. The men showed a good deal of consideration for him. Fenwick watched by the sick man, and Pollard and Barry bestirred themselves to get ready the morning meal, and to attend to the wants of their two helpless companions.
It was not until evening that Brian found an opportunity to say to Percival:—
"What did you want to find me for?"
"Can't you let the matter rest until we are off this —— island?" said Percival, losing control of that hidden fierceness for a moment.
And Brian answered rather coldly:—"As you please."
Percival waited awhile, and then said, more deliberately:—