"Is Mr. Lister very ill?" she asked.
Wheeler gave her a sympathetic glance. "He is pretty sick; he was nearly all in when I boarded the ship. Now it's possible he'll get better."
Barbara turned her head, but after a few moments looked up. "Thank you for going! Where are the others?"
"We have sent some to the Spanish hospital, landed them at the coaling wharf. They're not very sick. The rest are on board."
"All the rest?"
"Three short," said the doctor quietly. "They have made their last voyage. But the boys are waiting to get off with the stretcher."
Barbara let him go and followed. He looked very tired and she did not want to talk. She saw the stretcher carried up the hotel steps and along a passage, and then went to her room. A Spanish doctor and nurse were waiting and she knew she would be sent away. To feel she could not help was hard, but she tried to be resigned and stopped in the quiet room, listening for steps. Somebody might bring a message that Lister wanted her.
The message did not come and she was conscious of some relief, although she was tormented by regretful thoughts. Lister loved her and she had refused him, because she was proud. Perhaps her refusal was justified, but she was honest, and admitted that she had known he would not let her go, and had afterwards wondered how she would reply when he asked her again. Now she knew. The strain had broken her resolution. She had indulged her ridiculous pride and saw it might cost her much. Her lover was very ill; Wheeler doubted if he would get better.
In the evening Montgomery joined Cartwright in a corner of the smoking-room.
"I expect Captain Brown told you about the bother I gave him," he remarked.