Chapter Four.
“Better, my lad?” said one of the gentlemen, smiling; but I was looking at the other, who was Captain Brace, as I said in a puzzled way—
“Better? What’s the matter? Have I been ill?”
“Only nearly drowned. I hope you haven’t swallowed much of that filthy dock water.”
“Drowned? Dock water?” I said in a puzzled way; and then “Oh!” and I started up, but lay down and said “Oh!” again in a different tone of voice, for I had given my head a sounding rap against the beam above my berth.
“Hurt yourself?” said Captain Brace.
“Not very much,” I cried, “but I recollect now. That woman—was she saved?”
“Ask yourself,” said the first speaker. “You saved her, and it was a precious plucky thing to do. Oh yes, they’d soon bring her round. There, you don’t want me,” he continued, as he felt my pulse, and then laid his hand upon my forehead. “Lie still a bit, and have a nap.”
He nodded in a friendly way, and then went out of the cabin, leaving me with Captain Brace, whose dark stern face did not look half so repellent now, for it was lit up by a grave sad smile.
“Head ache?” he said gently.