The four patients were taken below. A little food, such as might be made for children, arrowroot with, sherry, and so forth, was given to them, and greedily they devoured it. They were then stripped, sponged with warm fresh water, and lifted each into a comfortable hammock, the active young doctor, Mr. Foster, the captain and steward, working for them like servants and nurses with hearty good-will.
Gentle cordials were then administered, and soon after Heriot appeared in the cabin with a bright and smiling face, wearing the happy expression of one who, in doing a good action, has done his best, to report that they had fallen into a sound sleep, were all doing well, and would, he hoped, soon be free from danger.
"It was too bad of you to send us below like children," said Rose.
"And you think they will recover, doctor?" asked Ethel, interrupting some playful apology of Heriot's.
"Recover? Oh yes, and perhaps be with us soon at table, too; so poor Manfredi's seat may thus be filled. Like Banquo's, it has long been empty."
"Oh, Leslie, how can you jest thus?" whispered Rose.
"I don't jest, dearest," replied the doctor, deprecatingly. "I liked poor Adrian Manfredi too well to associate his idea now with a jest," he added, gravely, as he thought of that night in the forecastle bunks, of the revelations he had heard, and the peril that was yet unaverted.
"Have the poor men said anything?" asked Ethel.
"Not much, Miss Basset, beyond a few indistinct and delirious mutterings."
"Could you gather who they were?"