The patient was thin and pale from the effects of the wound, which, as he said, had been a long time healing. It was evident that he had not yet recovered his strength or his weight, either, or the burden on Captain Barry would have been heavier than it was.
"Did you say," said the admiral, as they prepared to leave him, "that you had been at Mobile Bay?"
"Yes, sir."
"What ship were you on?"
"The Hartford, sir."
"Bless me!" exclaimed the old man; "with Dave Farragut?"
"Yes, sir; I had that honor."
"Why, I knew that boy when he was a midshipman. I——"
"Now, admiral, excuse me for giving commands in your presence, but you know there are times when the doctor rules the ship. This young man must be left alone, and, after the excitement, I think you had better go to bed—excuse me, I mean turn in—yourself," interposed the physician, peremptorily.
"Hark to the storm!" said the old man, turning to the window, his thoughts diverted for the moment from the accident and his guest—it needed but little to turn his mind to the ship at any time or under any circumstances. "Mark the flash of the lightning, hear the thunder, doctor! She'll be sore racked to-night!"