He pointed downward through the clear water, and making an effort Roberts leaned over the rail.
“Yes; I see,” he said huskily. “A shark, sure enough.”
“Yes; only a little one, though,” said Murray aloud. “I say, isn’t it curious how those brutes can keep themselves just at a certain depth below the keel, and go on swimming easily at just the same rate as we are going, without seeming to make any effort!”
“Yes, very strange; very, very strange,” said Roberts loudly, and with his voice sounding husky and faint. “Hah!” he ejaculated, at last, in a tone of relief. “He’s not coming here.” For the doctor had suddenly caught sight of Titely and crossed the deck to speak to the man.
“No, he’s not coming here,” said Murray quietly.
“I oughtn’t to be afraid to meet the old fellow, though, Frank,” said Roberts, with a sigh, “for I must be ill to turn like that.”
“Not ill, old chap,” said Murray quietly. “Come on down below.”
“Then you think I’m bad?” whispered the midshipman, turning upon his companion sharply.
“Not bad, but upset by the accident.”
“And nearly losing my life,” whispered Roberts.