“Well, yes; bravo! then,” said the doctor, sadly. “I am beaten; I give in.”
“Thank you, Frewen,” cried Mr Brymer, holding out his hand, which the doctor took frankly. “I am sorry to go against you, but you are too valuable to us here. I am sure that if I let you go down, they would not let you come up gain. Jarette is fox enough to know how your absence would weaken us, and then there is the captain; I place his life as of more value than that of a mutinous crew.”
“I’m convinced,” said Mr Frewen. “My desire was to stay, but as a surgeon I couldn’t stand still, knowing that my help was wanted down there.”
“You doctors are so greedy,” cried Mr Preddle. “You have two patients as it is, and if we’re going, on like this I’m afraid you’ll soon have some more.”
“Yes,” said the doctor, turning to Mr Denning, “I shall have another one. Forgive me for speaking, Mr Denning, but I think you ought to go back to your cabin now and remove your wet things.”
“You mean well, sir,” said Mr Denning, courteously, “but I am wanted here.”
“Not now, sir,” said the mate. “I think we can manage, and if you would hold yourself in readiness to turn out if we raise an alarm that would be enough.”
“I am here, and I have faced so much of the storm and trouble that I will see it through now.”
No one attempted to argue with him, and the watch was resumed, with the ship tearing through the water before the storm, for short-handed as we were, Mr Brymer shrank from attempting to alter her course, or riding head to wind.
From time to time there was a stir below, and voices rose angrily, but we could always hear Jarette’s shrill utterances, and he generally seemed to calm the men down, or to master them, with the result that the angry sounds ceased and gave place to a low murmuring as if some plan were being discussed. After this had been going on some time, on one occasion Mr Brymer, who had been aft at the wheel with Bob Hampton and had returned in time to hear the talking, shook his head and said to Mr Frewen—