With a nod and a smile of encouragement she left the cabin, and a minute or two later Mrs Vansittart entered it. She stepped quickly up to the side of my bunk, looked at me, and presently laid her slim, cool fingers upon my pulse, holding them there for several seconds.
“Ah!” she commented, as she removed them at length, “I guess you are oceans better than you were at this time yesterday. The fever is gone, and your skin is delightfully cool and moist; moreover, you are in your right mind once more, and that is something gained. I expect the wound in your head is healing, although we haven’t been able to look at it properly for nearly a week. But we will attend to it now, as soon as you have taken a little food. My stars, Walter, we have had a time with you! Lucky for us all that you have taken it into your head to become sensible again, or I guess we’d all have been sick people in another day or two. Do you know how long you’ve been ill?”
“No,” I answered; “but I am afraid that it has been much too long. I don’t know where to find words in which to express my regret for—”
“Regret!” she repeated. “Regret nothing! You couldn’t help it, my dear boy. You got hurt in defending us, and it was just our duty to look after and nurse you as best we could; and that is all there is to it. You have been ill ten whole days. This is the eleventh morning since the junk appeared. During the best part of those ten days you have been raving in delirium, with occasional outbreaks of violence, when it taxed the energies of all five of us to the utmost to restrain you. Oh, I guess we have had some very lively times with you, Walter, off and on! But, thank God! that is all over now and—Ah! here comes Lizette with some broth for you. We have been hoping for this change for the last five or six hours, and have got all ready for it.
“Now, Lizette, I guess you’ve got to climb right up on to this chair, seat yourself on the edge of the bunk, and support Mr Leigh in a sitting posture while I feed him. Take care that you don’t hurt his head. So—that’s right; lean back against the head of the bunk, and rest his head against your shoulder. Gently, girl, gently! I reckon the poor boy is aching all over with weakness. There, that’s all right! Are you pretty comfortable, Walter? Good! Now then, all that you’ve got to do is, just drink this broth right away, rest yourself for a spell, and then I’ll come along again and dress that wound on your head.”
Chapter Fourteen.
The Gale.
Another week elapsed before I could convince Mrs Vansittart that I was strong enough to be permitted to rise from my bunk and sit in a chair for a short time; but after that my recovery was rapid. My wound healed nicely, my strength returned, and five days later I was able to dress and, with assistance, make my way up on to the main-deck, where Julius, helped by the others—with a forethought for which I should certainly never have given him credit—had rigged up a sort of makeshift awning for my especial benefit. I learned, with the utmost satisfaction, that since the memorable morning of the junk’s appearance the boy had behaved with almost unbelievable goodness. The talking-to which he had received from his sister seemed to have awakened his better nature, and now they assured me that—as indeed it seemed—he was everything that could be desired. Of one thing at least there could be no possible mistake: his strange antipathy to me had entirely vanished, and he now seemed anxious to be as friendly and agreeable as before he had been objectionable.