To this proposal the worthy skipper at once consented; and half an hour later Dick, having discarded his working clothes for a suit of blue serge, and otherwise made himself presentable, moved aft and established himself in the spare cabin which Captain Roberts placed at his disposal, the skipper having meanwhile ensured a cordial reception for him from the passengers by telling them such particulars of Dick’s history as he was acquainted with, and also describing, with much picturesque detail, the masterly manner in which the lad had patched up the injured seaman.
Dick had no reason to complain of the manner in which the passengers received him among them; on the contrary, his reception was cordial in the extreme, especially by the women, to whose sense of romance the lad’s story, as told by the skipper, appealed very strongly. The introduction took place just as the passengers—or at least those of them who were not too ill—were about to sit down to tiffin, and Dick was assigned a place at the long table halfway between the head and the foot, where Captain Roberts and Mr Sutcliffe respectively presided; but the young man declined to sit down until he had visited and relieved his new patients, consisting of five ladies and three men.
His method of dealing with these unfortunates was simplicity itself. Relying wholly upon the wonderful power of hypnotism with which his friend Humphreys had endowed him, he prepared for each patient a draught consisting of sugar and water only, slightly flavoured with an aromatic bitter; and, as he presented this, he got the patient under his influence in the instantaneous manner which Humphreys had taught him, at the same time saying, in a quietly confident tone of voice:
“Now, I want you to drink this, please. It is an absolutely unfailing and instantaneous remedy for the distressing complaint from which you are suffering, and the moment that you have swallowed it every trace of discomfort will disappear, to return no more. You will feel so thoroughly well that very probably you will wish to rise and dress; but I do not advise that. On the contrary, I recommend you to remain where you are until you have had a few hours’ refreshing sleep, after which you can get up to dinner. That is right,”—as the patient swallowed the draught. “Now you feel quite all right, don’t you? Yes. You will feel very sleepy presently; just let yourself go; and when you awake you will find yourself as well as you ever were in your life.”
And, incredible though it may appear, that is precisely what happened. What was perhaps at least equally remarkable was that, although these good people had all suffered more or less from seasickness every day since leaving Gravesend, from that moment they were entirely free from it for the remainder of the voyage.
Among the passengers who were thus suddenly and completely cured was a Mr Philip Grosvenor, who, having been crossed in love, and, moreover, possessing far more money than he knew what to do with, while he had no disposition to dissipate it on the racecourse or at the gambling tables, was going out to South Africa to shoot big game; and this young man—he was only a month or two over twenty-six years of age—at once struck up a warm friendship with Dick, originating, possibly, in a feeling of gratitude for his prompt relief from those sufferings which had hitherto made his life a burden to him, from the moment when the South Foreland light had sunk beneath the horizon astern of the Concordia.
He made his first advances after dinner on the evening of the day which had witnessed his cure. As Dick had foretold, he fell asleep immediately after swallowing the draught which the young medico had administered, had awakened, feeling absolutely well, just in time to rise and dress for dinner, had partaken of a very hearty meal, and thereafter had made his way up on the poop to gaze upon the stirring spectacle of the ship battling with and gallantly holding her own against the raging wind and sea—and possibly also to revel in his new-found immunity from the horrors of mal de mer. Here he had found Dick, a born sailor, walking the heaving and plunging deck and chatting animatedly with Mr Sutcliffe, who, honest man, felt somewhat at a loss to determine precisely the manner of his behaviour toward the youngster whom he had so recently patronised and ordered about, but who was now translated aft to the quarterdeck upon an equal footing with himself. Dick had just about succeeded in putting to flight the worthy chief mate’s feeling of awkwardness and embarrassment when Grosvenor appeared and joined the pair, whereupon Sutcliffe, who was rather shy with the passengers, sheered off, upon the pretence of attending to his duty, and left the two together.
“By Jove, Doctor, but this is a grand sight, isn’t it?” exclaimed Dick’s recent patient. “Never saw the like of it before, and shouldn’t be in form to see it now, but for you. ’Pon my word, you know, you are a wonder—a perfect wonder! Give me your arm and let’s walk about a bit, shall we? That’s right. D’you know I don’t think I ever felt more fit in my life than I do at this moment; and to reflect that only this morning I was—ugh! Tell you what it is, Doctor, you should patent that prescription of yours, have it made up, and sell it at five shillings the bottle. You would soon make your fortune. And I’ll write a testimonial for you. ‘Took one dose and never needed another!’ eh? No, hang it all, that wouldn’t do, either, rather too ambiguous, eh? sort of double meaning in that kind of statement—what? But, joking apart, old man, I’d very strongly advise you to patent the thing and advertise it extensively. I’m certain that there’s money in it.”
“Possibly,” agreed Dick, who had no intention of taking this young man into his confidence to the extent of explaining the actual character of the draught. “Unfortunately, however, to do as you suggest needs the preliminary expenditure of a good deal of money, which is a singularly scarce commodity with me. No, I am afraid that plan of yours will scarcely do; it is true that I am particularly anxious to make my fortune, and that, too, without a moment’s loss of time, but I am afraid I shall have to hit upon some other way of doing it.”
“Ah! Well, what is your plan, if it is a fair question? Excuse me, old chap, I’m not asking out of mere vulgar, impertinent curiosity, but at the dinner table to-night somebody mentioned that you are working your passage out to South Africa. What do you propose to do when you arrive there?”