“And no wonder, if you will insist upon coming up ladders head downwards. Where’s John? He will help you to your cabin; the deck one, next to mine.”
But John had vanished with a parcel.
“Mildred, send some one quick, I beg of you,” remarked Miss Terry, in the solemn tones of one who feels that a crisis is approaching.
“I can’t see anybody except a very dirty sailor.”
“Permit me,” said Arthur, stepping to the rescue.
“You are very kind; but she can’t walk. I know her ways; she has got to the stage when she must be carried. Can you manage her?”
“I think so,” replied Arthur, “if you don’t mind holding her legs, and provided that the vessel does not roll,” and, with an effort, he hoisted Miss Terry baby-fashion into his arms, and staggered off with her towards the indicated cabin, Mrs. Carr, as suggested, holding the lower limbs of the prostrate lady. Presently she began to laugh.
“If you only knew how absurd we look,” she said.
“Don’t make me laugh,” answered Arthur, puffing; for Miss Terry was by no means light, “or I shall drop her.”
“If you do, young man,” ejaculated his apparently unconscious burden with wonderful energy, “I will never forgive you.”