“I felt so delighted, sir, to see the poor old chap better,” he stammered.
“So I see,” said the lieutenant. “There, put on your jacket, and give the men a glass of grog apiece for what they have done towards saving our friend here. Dick, there, has pretty well rubbed his skin off.”
“Well, sir,” said Dick in an ill-used tone, “I rubbed as hard as ever I could.”
“That you did, Dick,” said the middy.
“And he is coming to, sir,” continued Dick.
“Yes,” said the lieutenant, “a good sleep will set him right, I think. It is a pity the doctor has gone on the expedition; but we must do the best we can.”
“Expedition!” said Bob sharply, “of course; but I thought Ali here had gone. He was going. Oh, I know; he has stopped behind because Tom Long and I were not going.”
“Very likely,” said the lieutenant drily; “but had you not better see about the men’s refreshment?”
“Oh! yes, sir; of course,” said Bob, hurrying on his light jacket; and Dick and a couple of men, who had been helping, followed him out of the cabin, smiling and wiping their lips in anticipation of the promised drink.
They had hardly left the cabin when Ali opened his eyes, and lay gazing up at the ceiling, then, in a curious, puzzled way, at the light, his mind struggling to recover itself and master his confusion.