“Agh, no! sure I want the dhrops agin the sickness.”
“Don’t know indeed, ma’am.”
“Ah, you stupid creature; maybe you’re not the real steward. What’s your name?”
“Smith, ma’am.”
“Ah, I thought so; go away, man, go away.”
This injunction, given in a diminuendo cadence, was quickly obeyed, and all was silence for a moment or two. Once more was I dropping asleep, when the same voice as before burst out with—
“Am I to die here like a haythen, and nobody to come near me? Steward, steward, steward Moore, I say,”
“Who calls me?” said a deep sonorous voice from the opposite side of the cabin, while at the same instant a tall green silk nightcap, surmounting a very aristocratic-looking forehead, appeared between the curtains of the opposite berth.
“Steward Moore,” said the lady again, with her eyes straining in the direction of the door by which she expected him to enter.
“This is most strange,” muttered the baronet, half aloud. “Why, madam, you are calling me!”