“Yes, and quite delirious.”
“We must put back, then,” exclaimed Dutch. “She must be set ashore—taken home.”
“I should not like to take the responsibility of having her moved,” said the doctor. “If you will take my advice, you will let her remain.”
“Let her remain?” gasped Dutch. “Impossible!”
“No,” said the doctor, smiling; “the removal is impossible.”
“Is she in danger?”
“Not necessarily now; but she would be in great danger if moved. I’m afraid I must ask you to leave her to me. It is fortunate that I was on board, and that she has so good a nurse with her as Miss Studwick.”
Dutch essayed to speak, but no words came, and drawing in his breath as if in intense pain he walked to the side and stood with his head resting upon his hand, looking out to sea, and wondering how this tangle was to be ended.
“Poor fellow! he seems a good deal cut up about it,” said Mr Meldon, who was a dark, earnest-looking man of three or four-and-thirty.
“Yes,” said Mr Parkley. “She was to have gone ashore at Plymouth.”