“I cannot do that. I feel as if I should like to get up. Where is Mr Thompson? I must see him.”
“Mr Thompson, Sir,” replied he; “don’t you recollect?”
“What?”
“Why, Sir, he was bitten in two by a shark.”
“Shark!” this was the key-note required, and my memory returned. “Yes, yes, I recollect now all, all. I recollect the panther and the cane-brakes. How was I preserved?”
“The bloodhounds killed the panther, and you were brought on board insensible, and have been in a raging fever ever since.”
“It must be so,” replied I, collecting my senses after a few moments of thought. “It must be so. How long have I been ill?”
“This is the twenty-first day.”
“The twenty-first day!” cried I. “Is it possible? Are none of the men ill?”
“No, Sir, they are all well.”