"He's a dangerous man that, Jim. Put him somewhere else! Take him away!"
"Nonsense, old man. Seth's as true as they make 'em. Besides, he's lost a leg. And anyway I couldn't ask them to move him now. There's no room anywhere else."
"He's dangerous, I tell you," said Harben, with a shiver. "He thinks . . . he thinks . . . but I haven't, Jim. I swear I haven't. I'd nothing to do with it. I swear I hadn't."
"Don't you worry, old man," said Jim soothingly, for it all sounded to him like the ravings of a disturbed brain. "Can I get you anything, or make you more comfortable?"
"Only take him away," whispered the other insistently.
But that Jim could not do. He and Seth were only there on sufferance, as it were, and he wanted to give as little trouble as possible.
Captain Jolly had insisted on giving up his own bunk to him, but had only prevailed on him to take it by asserting that he would be on deck most of the night. And the clean cold sheets were so delightful, after the threadbare amenities of the camp, that he felt as if he could sleep on for a week.
Very early next morning Jim was wakened by a hand on his shoulder. He jumped up so vehemently--forgetful of the narrowness of his quarters, and with a mazy impression that the Russians were upon them--that his head was sore for days after it.
"Mr. Carron," said a grave quiet voice, "there is trouble on board." And he saw that it was Dr. McLean.
"Trouble? What trouble, doctor?"