“I? No,” said Sir John, “I’ll wait for breakfast. What do you say, Jack?”
Jack said nothing, but looked disgusted.
“Don’t like the idea of taking anything of course, sir,” said the captain; “but wait a little, I’m quite a doctor over these troubles, and I’ll give you some good news.”
“I’m sure he will be grateful for it,” said Sir John, for Jack was silent.
“Here it is then,” said the captain bluffly; “and you may believe it, for I know. You’ve had a sharp little spell since we left port; but it’s over now, and, as we say, you’re quite well, thank you.”
“I quite well?” cried the lad indignantly; “I feel wretchedly bad.”
“And think me very unfeeling for talking to you like this,” said the captain, smiling; “but I’m nothing of the kind. Of course you feel wretchedly ill. Faint and weak, and as if you could never touch food again. That’s why I wanted you to let the steward bring you a cup of tea. Human nature can’t go without food for three or four days without feeling bad.”
“Of course not,” said Sir John.
“But now look here, Mr Jack, I talked about good news, and told you that you were well now. Here’s the proof. There’s a nice stiff breeze on, the water’s very lively, and the yacht’s dancing about so that we shall have to mind how we handle our breakfast-cups; and look at you! You are holding on because you haven’t learned to give and take with the springs in your legs, but you are taking it all quite calmly. Why, the other day as soon as we began to careen over a bit, the doctor had to take you below. Now do you see the difference?”
“No,” said Jack. “You cannot tell how ill I feel.”