“Hullo!” said I, raising my head and looking round me in astonishment. “Where am I?”
“In Dr Nittleby’s own cabin, sure,” answered the Irishman, grinning; “an’ by the same token, sor, as he wor called away by the cap’en, he lift me here for to say, he tould me, whither ye wor di’d or aloive, sure, whin ye woke up.”
“I feel awfully hungry, Corporal Macan,” said I, after a pause to reflect on the situation. “Have I been asleep long?”
“Ivver since Siven Bells, sure, in the forenoon watch, sor.”
“And what’s the time now?”
“Close on Four Bells in the first dog watch, sor.”
“Good gracious me!” I exclaimed in consternation, tossing off a lot of blankets that lay on the top of me and jumping out of the big bunk that was like a sofa, where I had been sleeping, on to the deck of the cabin; when I found I was attired only in a long garment, which must have been one of the doctor’s nightshirts, for it reached down considerably below my feet, tripping me up on my trying to walk towards the door. “Where are my clothes?”
“Here, sor,” replied the corporal, equal to the occasion, taking up a bundle that was lying on one of the lockers and proceeding to spread out my uniform, jacket and trousers and other articles of wearing apparel seriatim, on the top of the bed-place; Macan smoothing down each with the palm of his hand as if he were grooming a horse. “I had ’em dried at the galley foire, sor, whilst ye wor a-slapin’.”
“Thank you, corporal,” I said, dressing as quickly as I could with his assistance; the marine, like most of his class, being a handy, useful fellow and not a bad valet on a pinch. “I must hurry up. I wonder if I can get any dinner in the gunroom.”
“Faith ye’re too late for that, sor,” answered Macan with much concern. “An’ for tay, too, sor, as will. It’s all cleared away this hour an’ more.”