“‘Thank ye, doctor,’ I says, smiling to myself. ‘And now look here,’ I says, ‘I’m not going to give up till the last; and when that last comes, and the ship’s going down, why, I shall have a try if I can’t swim to safety. If that fails, and I can really feel that it is to be, why, I hope I shall go down into the great deep calmly, like a hopeful man, praying that Somebody above will forgive me all I’ve done amiss, and stretch out His fatherly hand to my little ones at home.’
“He went away, and I dropped asleep, worn out with my exertion.
“When I woke, Polly was standing by the bedside watching me, with a bottle and glass on the little table.
“As soon as she saw my eyes open, she shook up the stuff, and poured it into a wine-glass.
“‘Is that what the doctor sent?’ I says.
“‘Yes, dear; you were to take it directly.’
“‘Then I shan’t take it,’ I says. ‘He’s given me up, and that stuff’s only to keep me quiet. Polly, you go and make me some beef-tea, and make it strong.’
“She looked horrified, poor old girl, and was going to beg me to take hold of the rotten life-belt he’d sent me, when I held out my shaking hand for it, took the glass, and let it tilt over—there was only about a couple of teaspoonfuls in it—and the stuff fell on the carpet.
“I saw the tears come in her eyes, but she said nothing—only put down the glass, and ran out to make the beef-tea.