“I say, you know—why—which I—what, you, Captain Antonio? Ha, ha, ha.
“Why, captain, I did have the drollest dream. I thought"—then his big mouth expanded in a broad smile, his eyes as usual sunk out of sight behind his fat cheeks, he bent back his head and exploded in a hearty laugh.
Antonio held a glass to his mouth, and he drank feverishly.
“Which I’ll tell you the dream to-morrow, captain,” he said; and sinking back on the pillow, he was soon fast asleep once more.
He was better and almost well when he awoke next forenoon; and scarcely could he be convinced for a time that his terrible adventure of the day before was not all a dream. But the reality came home to him at last, and he shuddered to think of the narrow escape he had had; then quickly recovering himself, laughed in the same old way, for nothing could alter Johnnie.
“Which there may be some nice pickin’s on me,” he told Davie Drake, “’cause I’m exstronar’ plump and beefy, ye know. But, lo! I don’t want to be trussed and eaten by they devils, you bet. ’Sides,” he added solemnly, “I’ve got a mother, and a granny, and a little sister; and, lo! Mr. Drake, if they were to hear o’ my bein’ cooked like a Christmas goose, widn’t they just—
“‘Let the tears doonfa’
For Jock o’ Hazeldean.’”
. . . . . .
The wounded, including Barclay, did well. They were all on board ship. Awnings were spread for them fore and aft, and under these hammocks were hung; and no doubt it was the delightful and ozonic breath of the blue sea that helped to restore them and heal their wounds.
Antonio was the surgeon, but Leona was dresser and nurse; and poor little Teenie was busy enough also as a helper.