“All right, Mr. Malone, what is it?” This to the officer of the deck who was rapidly approaching.
“The pilot is signalling from Tadshurra Bay, sir. Shall I slow down, Captain?”
“Very well, sir, glad to get him promptly. What is the boat’s number?”
“Seven, sir.”
“Good, that is old Abdullah, a good sailor and a fine fellow. Report when he gets aboard, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
The officer hurried away and shortly after the siren gave two short blasts and the boat lost headway.
“May I join you for a bit, Count?” Captain Pollard took the stool vacated by the doctor following the gesture of polite assent of the Count.
“The doctor’s report left a bad taste in your mouth, eh? If you don’t mind, I’d like to say a few words more on this same subject, your Excellency.”
The Captain stuck his hands deeply into his coat pockets, looking straight at the Count. “You are an old soldier and a gentleman who knows the world, Count. Dr. Brown came to me this afternoon somewhat worried. He doesn’t want to scare you needlessly but neither does he intend you should get off the boat a sick man. He is probably a little over-cautious. Now, just to please us all, let him look after you until we land. There is nothing more trying after a residence in India than the passage we have ahead of us for the next five or six days. Do as Dr. Brown advises and when you get home send him a nice letter telling him he was right. Is it a bargain?”