“Oh, that’s all right,” laughed Leslie; “I think you may trust me to take care of this three-decker of yours. But if anything happens, and I find myself at a loss, I will not fail to call you. Good night!”
And, so saying, Leslie left the cabin and, making his way up on deck, took a sailor-like look at the brilliantly star-lit sky that stretched cloudless all round the brig from zenith to horizon, as he thoughtfully filled and lit his pipe.
To tell the truth, he was less easy in his mind touching Potter’s condition than he had allowed Purchas to see. That the man was something more than merely stunned was now undeniable; and although the injury might not in itself be serious, the complete ignorance of Purchas and himself in relation to medical and surgical matters might possibly lead to wrong treatment that, in its turn, might result in complications ending, who could say where? Of course the man had only himself to thank for it; his conduct had been provocative to the last degree; yet Leslie had been animated by no vindictive feeling when he had attacked the man, still less had he intended to inflict any serious injury upon him; he had, indeed, acted solely in self-defence in taking the fellow’s revolver away from him; and as to the violence that had accompanied the act—well he himself considered it perfectly excusable under the circumstances; and so, he believed, would any unprejudiced person. Nevertheless, he regretted the incident; he would much rather that it had not happened; and while dismissing the subject from his mind, for the moment, he resolved that henceforth he would keep himself much better in hand in his dealings with the man.
The calm continued throughout Leslie’s watch; and when at eight bells he turned over the charge of the deck to Purchas, the brig, save for an occasional lazy and almost imperceptible heave on the now invisible swell, was as motionless as a house.
When, however, Purchas called him at seven bells—thus allowing him time to wash and dress in readiness for breakfast at eight o’clock, Leslie found, upon turning out, that while the morning was as gloriously fine as the preceding night had been, the brilliant blue of the sky overhead was streaked here and there with light touches of cirrus cloud, the forerunners of a breeze that was already wrinkling the surface of the azure sea and causing it to sparkle as though strewed with diamond dust in the wake of the sun, while it just filled the brig’s sails sufficiently to keep them asleep and give the old tub steerage-way. The watch were just finishing off the task of washing decks; the men going over the streaming planks with swabs and squeegees, to remove the superfluous water, while Purchas, sitting on the stern grating, was drying his bare feet with a towel preparatory to drawing on his socks and shoes. Miss Trevor was not visible.
The mate, having bade Leslie good morning, proceeded to inform him that the breeze, which was breathing out from the eastward, had come up with the sun, and that he hoped it would freshen as the day grew older; winding up with an earnest aspiration that it would last long enough to run them into the “Trades.” Then, having donned his foot coverings, he drew Leslie aside, out of hearing of the helmsman, to impart the information that, having visited the “old man’s” cabin an hour previously, he had found him no better, and that he was beginning to feel “downright anxious” about him.
Hearing this, Leslie proposed that they should both go down together, to investigate Potter’s condition; and Purchas eagerly acquiescing, they presently found themselves once more bending over the sick man.
As the mate had said, there was no perceptible change in the skipper’s appearance, save that, as Leslie thought, his breathing was a trifle more stertorous. He was lying in precisely the same attitude that he had assumed when first placed in the bunk; indeed, the two men agreed that, so far as they could see, he had not moved a limb from that moment. While they stood there together, discussing the man’s disconcerting condition, faint rustling, as of garments, outside the cabin door, accompanied by light footsteps upon the companion ladder, apprised them of the fact that Miss Trevor was moving, and had gone on deck; whereupon Leslie went out and followed her. He found her standing just to windward of the companion, gazing with visible delight at the brilliant and sparkling scene around her. She had evidently rested well, for she looked as fresh and wholesome as the morning itself; and although her costume was somewhat shrunken, and showed here and there patches of whitish discolouration from its long immersion in the sea, she still presented a picture of grace calculated to charm the most fastidious eye.
Lifting his cap, Leslie stepped forward and greeted her, bidding her good morning, and remarking that he hoped she had slept as well as her appearance seemed to suggest; to which she replied, laughingly, that she had, and that she hoped she could return the compliment.
“Oh yes,” answered Leslie; “I have slept admirably, thanks. I have had eight hours in, and four hours—the four hours of the middle watch—on deck, having undertaken to stand watch and watch with Purchas during the skipper’s indisposition, the mention of which brings me to the point of asking you, Miss Trevor, whether you will permit me to enter your cabin for the purpose of removing a medicine-chest that, I understand from the mate, is there.”