“Yes; off with you.”
As I started I saw that Mr Denning was frowning, and that his sister looked troubled. But it was only a momentary glance, and a minute or two later I approached the door of Mr Preddle’s cabin and knocked.
There was a groan, and in spite of its pitiful nature I could not help smiling, and I knocked again.
“Come in,” I heard in quite a squeak; and then as I opened the door—“Is that Doctor Frewen?”
“No, sir,” I replied. “I’ve come to ask you to get up and come on deck.”
“On deck! Is there any danger?”
The speaker raised himself upon his elbow, and looked at me eagerly.
“Oh no,” I replied; “the sea’s going down, and the captain thinks an hour or two on deck would do you good.”
“Too ill, too much prostrated,” sighed the great fellow, who lay, as I thought, like a sick elephant, when he had dropped back on to the pillow.
“Captain Berriman said something about seeing to your fish, sir.”