George heard the ejaculation, and, springing to his feet, stepped eagerly into the sleeping-cabin, saying—
“Of course it is, my dear fellow. How do you feel now? Better?”
“Better?” repeated Walford. “I haven’t been ill, have I? Where am I? How did I come here? And where did you come from?”
“What a string of questions!” said George with a laugh. “But don’t worry yourself by trying to guess the answers to any of them just now, you have been ill; but, thank God, you are getting better again. When you are well enough to listen, I will tell you all I know; until then you must be satisfied with the assurance that you are as safe as a man can be in a tight little ship, with fine weather and plenty of sea-room.”
“Safe!” ejaculated Walford. “Ah! but am I safe? I have a horrible feeling of dread upon me—a sensation of some frightful danger hovering over me—a feeling that unless I can do something, I know not what, a hideous disaster will happen.”
He shuddered violently as these words left his lips; then, turning suddenly to George, he grasped him convulsively by the arm, and exclaimed in agitated tones—
“Oh, Leicester! tell me what is it that threatens? What have I to guard against? If you know what it is—”
“There,” said George soothingly, “do not worry about it any more. I did not intend to say a word about it for some time to come; but, since I find that you remember something about it, I will tell you this much. You have been in very great danger indeed, but all that is long past; you are now on board my ship, more than a thousand miles away from the danger which threatened you, and as safe as a man can be in mid-ocean.”
“Thanks, thanks! I believe you,” muttered Walford with a sigh of ineffable relief, as he sank back upon his pillow. “So I am in your ship, eh? That’s strange; I can’t imagine—but, there, I shall not worry myself any more about the matter; you’ll look after me, I know; you’re a thorough good fellow, Leicester, and I’m almost sorry now that I—that I—um! what was it, now? Well, I dare say I shall remember it further on. I say, old fellow, what time is it? Nearly dinner-time, I should think, for I feel most confoundedly hungry.”
“It is nearly dinner-time,” answered George, delighted to find so great an improvement in the man he had vowed to protect and restore. “If you can hold out for another half-hour, I think I may promise you a decent meal by that time. Will that do?”