“Ah, Tom,” cried Mark, “glad you have got well again. Coming to help me?”
“Yes, sir! Mr Howlett said I was to come and wally de sham you, as he calls washing yer down and dressing of yer up. Same to you, sir, only you don’t look quite as I should like to see yer.”
Half an hour later Mark was on deck in a long cane chair, the awning above his head, the monotonous-looking coast off astern, and forward and to right and left the blue dancing water, rippled by a light breeze which made the Nautilus careen over and glide through the little waves.
“And how beautiful it all looks!” sighed the lad. “I never thought the ship so delightful, nor the sea so bright before.”
Just then, Dance the coxswain came by, and saluted, Bob Howlett passing them the same moment.
“Here you are, then, skipper,” he said. “What do you think of Joe Dance? Looks yellow about the gills, don’t he? Here comes the captain. Can I do anything for you, Vandean?”
“Morning, Mr Vandean,” said the captain. “Come, that’s better. Now then, be smart and get well.”
“I almost think I am well, sir,” replied Mark, “and feel ashamed of being so idle.”
“Humph!” said Mr Staples, from behind him, “first midshipman I ever knew with so fine a conscience. But come, he does look better, sir.”
“Oh yes. Only wants time,” said the captain. “You’ll be ready to help take the next slaver, Vandean—eh?”—this to the lieutenant; “well, say the next but one. By the way, Mr Vandean, you can send your attendant to the cabin for any books you like to read. Look here, Staples.”