And then hours went by, with the doctor as insensible to the progress of the terrific hurricane as the boy he watched. There were plenty of passengers below, but no one came near, and the two within that dimly-lit cabin seemed to be the only living beings on board, so perfectly uninterrupted did they remain.
This did not trouble the doctor in the least, for all he required was to be left undisturbed with Nature, that she might have time to work her cure, for as far as he was concerned nothing could be done.
He knew that a tremendous storm was raging, though there was so little sea on that the motion of the vessel was not violent, for the simple reason that the tops of the waves were cut off by the terrific wind, which literally levelled the white waste of waters through which they tore.
It must have been about midnight when the cabin door was opened again, and the old sailor crept in and close up to the doctor’s side.
“How is he, sir?” said the man, with his lips close to the doctor’s ear.
“Very, very bad, my man,” was the reply.
“Poor dear lad!” growled the old sailor. “So we are up yonder, sir.”
“Oh!” said the doctor, quietly, but without taking his eyes from the patient.
“Engine’s running at full speed to keep us head to wind.”
“Oh!” said the doctor, in the same low, uninterested tone.