“By Jove,” said I, “I am awfully sorry to hear that! Could he see me, do you think?”
“I really don’t know,” answered Freeman; “Hamilton is the man of whom you must ask that question. Your best plan, I think, will be to go aboard as soon as possible. Meanwhile, I suppose you will take charge and make all necessary arrangements.”
“Certainly,” I said. “You, of course, will take command of the brig, and Keene must take command here, with just enough men to enable him to handle the ship, which, by the by, has a full cargo of slaves aboard, I perceive.” There could be no possible doubt as to this last, for there was a thin, bluish-white vapour of steam curling up through the gratings which closed the hatchways, the effluvium emanating from which was almost unendurable.
“You,” I continued, “had better get back aboard the brig and set your crew to work to repair your damages aloft as quickly as possible—all other damage must remain until we arrive at Sierra Leone. I will do the same as soon as I have seen the prisoners properly secured. Our own damages are but slight, and as soon as I have put matters in train aboard the schooner I will send Simpson and a party aboard here to see to things, while I go aboard you to hear what Hamilton has to say. But we shall have to use the brigantine’s boats, I expect, to get back to our own craft. I have not left enough hands with Keene to enable him to send a boat.”
This arrangement we duly carried out; but, owing to one delay and another, it was nearly three o’clock that afternoon when I was able to pay my promised visit to the brig, by which time Hamilton had coopered up all his most serious cases and was able to spare me a moment.
“Ah, Grenvile,” he exclaimed, as I descended into the brig’s cabin, which, by the way, was almost as sumptuously arranged as that of the Francesca, and which the medico was then using as a surgery. “I am glad to see you and to learn that you don’t need any of my delicate attentions! The skipper is very anxious to see you, poor chap, but he would not signal for you to come aboard, as Freeman told him that you intended coming as soon as possible, but that, in the meantime, you had your hands pretty full looking after things in general. This affair has been as sharp a thing of its kind as I have ever known, I think.”
“And how is he now, Hamilton? Do you think he can see me without detriment to himself?” I asked.
“Certainly, if he is not asleep, as to which I will investigate,” was the reply. “It will not harm him to see you,” continued Hamilton; “on the contrary, it may do him good. For I fancy that he wishes to arrange certain matters with you, and when he has done that he will perhaps be able to compose himself and give himself a chance. Not that I think there is much hope for him; I tell you that candidly. But for pity’s sake don’t let your manner to him betray the fact that we are taking a very serious view of his case. If we can get him ashore, and into the hospital alive, he may perhaps pull round; so pray shove ahead with your repairs as fast as possible, and carry on like fury when you fill away again.”
“Trust me,” said I. “If ‘carrying on’ will get him ashore alive, I’ll do it. And now perhaps you had better ascertain whether I can see him or not, for the sooner I am free again to look after matters the sooner shall we be able to make a start.”
Without further loss of time Hamilton tiptoed to the door of the skipper’s state-room, and, having very gently turned the handle and looked in, beckoned me to enter.