“I believe it would, sir,” I replied, thinking from his manner of speaking that he had a proposal of some sort to make.
“Yes, no doubt about it,” returned the skipper. “And you would like it? Then be so kind as to find Mr Malcolm,” (the surgeon), “and ask him to step into my cabin for a moment, if he is disengaged.”
Certain now that there was something in the wind, I lost no time in hunting up the worthy medico and delivering the skipper’s message, which I supplemented by a request upon my own account, that if any proposal were made to send me away upon another expedition, the doctor would kindly throw no difficulties in the way.
To which the canny Scotchman replied,—
“Before makin’ any sic a promise, I’ll just bide a wee and speir a few particulars anent the nature o’ the said expedition, laddie. If it’s o’ a nature to prove benefecial to your health—why then I’m no saying but what I may be induced to do what I can to forward your views; but no’ itherwise.”
I watched him into the cabin, and then “stood off and on” outside upon the quarter-deck, awaiting his reappearance.
I had not long to wait. In less than five minutes he came out upon the quarter-deck, and seeing me, beckoned me to approach.
“It’s a’ right, laddie,” said he, “just gang ben til him,”—pointing to the cabin—“and tak’ your instructions. It’s just the vera thing I wad hae prescribed for you had it been possible to hae had the prescription mad’ up. But ye’ll no gang oot o’ the ship until ye hae been to me for a wee drappie pheesic ye maun tak’ along wi’ ye, d’ye mind?”
I promised the kind-hearted old fellow I would be sure to do his bidding and then joyously entered the cabin.
“Sit down, Mr Chester,” said the skipper, when I made my appearance. I took the chair which he had indicated, and he then proceeded,—