“But you don’t, my lad. There’s a big change in your appearance since you come aboard.”
“I feel jest the same, anyway.”
“Yes, folks with that disease always do; but come on, we must get to the island as quick as we can, or the brig may go on without me.”
“I wish you was goin’ to stay ashore too.”
Ned was clambering over the rail as he said this, consequently did not see an expression of what was very like fear which passed over the mate’s face, and it seemed impossible for him to make any reply.
On stepping into the boat Ned noticed a number of packages in sail-cloth, and asked what they were.
“Provisions an’ sich like as you may need while stoppin’ here. The captain tells me he has given you a first-class outfit, large enough to keep you like a prince for a year.”
While speaking Mr. Stout had begun to row toward the shore, and when they were so far from the brig that his words could not be overheard by the captain, who was watching them from the quarter-deck, he said as he motioned with his foot toward a small bundle which lay under the stern-sheets:
“I found a lot of fish-lines, a pocket knife, an’ a quantity of matches in my room this mornin,’ so I put ’em aboard thinkin’ they might come in handy for you.”
“What would I want with such things if I’m goin’ to the hospital?” Ned asked in surprise.