"Oh, I have been an officer for more than two years," he said. "I was only fourteen when I joined, and I am nearly sixteen now."
"And have you been in battles?"
"Not in a regular battle. You see England is not at war now with anyone, but I have been in two or three fights with pirates and that sort of thing."
"And now, Myra, you must not talk any more," her father said. "You know the doctor gave strict orders that he was to go to bed as soon as he arrived here."
At this moment the door opened and a slave girl brought in a basin of strong broth.
"Well, you may stop to take that."
Nat spent a delightful month at Monsieur Duchesne's plantation. For the first few days he lay in a hammock beneath a shady tree, then he began to walk, at first only for a few minutes, but every day his strength increased. At the end of a fortnight he could walk half a mile, and by the time the month was up he was able to wander about with Myra all over the plantation. Monsieur Duchesne, on his return one day from town, brought a letter for him. It was from the captain himself:
Dear Mr. Glover,—I hope you are getting on well, and are by this time on your legs again. As far as I can see, we are not likely to be at Cape François again for some time, therefore, when you feel quite strong enough, you had better take passage in a craft bound for Jamaica, which is likely to be our head-quarters for some time. Of course if we are away, you will wait till our return. I have spoken to a friend of mine, Mr. Cummings—his plantation lies high up among the hills—and he has kindly invited you to make his place your home till we return, and it will be very much better for you to be in the pure air up there than in this pestilential place.
Nat would have started the next day, but his host insisted upon his staying for another week.
"You are getting on so well," M. Duchesne said, "that it would be folly indeed to risk throwing yourself back. Every day is making an improvement in you, and a week will make a great difference."