“Jump, sir!” groaned the man; “did you say jump?”
“Well then, crawl. Here, steward!” cried the doctor, “come and help this man to his cabin.”
“Can’t you give me something to put me out of my misery, sir?” groaned the man.
“Absurd! There, try and get on your legs. I’ll help you.” For the steward had come in promptly, smiling at the state of affairs, and poor Edward was set upon his legs.
“Come, stand up,” said the steward, for Edward’s knees gave way like the joints of a weak two-foot rule.
“Yes, stand up,” cried the doctor; “don’t be so weak, man.”
“’Tain’t me, sir, it’s my legs,” said the man faintly. “Don’t seem to have no bones now.”
“Why, Edward, I thought you were a smart manly fellow,” cried the doctor.
“That’s just what I always thought of myself, sir, but it wasn’t a bit true. Would you mind asking Sir John, sir, to have the yacht stopped and me put ashore?”
“Of course I would. It’s absurd.”