“Don’t, don’t ask any questions,” he cried, half-angrily; “do you want to see me die?”
“Poor fellow!” I muttered, as I fought hard to get buttons through their proper holes, after a desperate struggle with my trousers, into which I got one leg, and had to try again and again to get in the other as I stood; but so sure as I raised the second limb the ship gave a lurch, and I either went against the bulk-head or banged up against our bunks.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” groaned Walters. “Oh, do, do call for help.”
“No, I’d better run and fetch Mr—Mr—what’s the doctor’s name?”
“We never heard his name,” moaned my messmate; “fetch him. I knew how it would be. It’s a shame to poison officers with bad preserved meat.”
“But I ate a lot of it,” I said, as I triumphantly finished fastening my second brace.
“Ah, you’ll have it directly. Oh dear, oh dear! I am so bad—why did I ever come to sea?”
Slosh—whish—bang!
A wave had struck the ship, and we could hear the water flying over us, as, after a tremendous effort to keep on my legs, I came down, sitting on my sea-chest; and then, instead of springing up again, I sat rolling from side to side, laughing silently and trying hard to master the intense desire to break forth into a tremendous roar.
Walters did not see it for a few moments, but kept on bemoaning his condition.