“Then he must have a rest,” cried Mr Brymer. “Now, sir, can you get up and walk?”
“No,” said Mr Frewen, decisively.
“Lift him up, Dumlow,” said Mr Brymer, “and bring him aft to one of the cabins. Will you see to him, Mr Frewen?”
The doctor nodded, and I felt as if I wanted to go; but my duty was there, and I had to stay.
Chapter Twenty Six.
That storm showed no signs though of abating, and we watched on through the night, constantly on the strain, attacked as we were by alarms from below, and the furious assault of the winds and waves. Several times over during the night, when I was suffering from the cold, and faint with hunger and exhaustion, a horrible chilly feeling of despair came creeping over me. I began thinking of home and those there who would be heart-broken if I was lost; but always at these worst times something seemed to happen that took me out of myself, giving me work so particular to do that all my energies were directed to that duty, and in consequence I forgot my own troubles.
Twice over, when Mr Brymer came with one or other of the men, Mr Denning expressed a wish to be relieved, and I had to take his arm and help him along under the shelter of the bulwarks to the saloon and the cabin where his sister was waiting anxiously for news, and as we struggled aft, he talked to me as freely as if I had been his brother.
“Is there any hope for us, Dale?” he said on one occasion as we rested for a few moments underneath the bulwarks.