Captain Eri stooped down beside the bed.
“What is it, John?” he asked.
“Eri s'pose God called you to break man's law and keep his, what would you do?”
The Captain glanced anxiously at the house-keeper. Then he said soothingly:
“Oh, that's all right, John. Don't worry 'bout that. You and me settled that long ago. How are you feelin' now?”
“I know, I know,” with the monotonous persistence of those whose minds are wandering,—and then cleanly once more, “Eri, I've been called.”
“Ssh-h! That's all right, John; that's all right. Don't you want Mrs. Snow to fix your piller? P'raps you'd lay a little easier, then. Now, Mrs. Snow, if you'll jest turn it while I lift him. So; that's better now, ain't it, shipmate, hey?” But the sick man muttered an unintelligible something, and relapsed once more into the half-doze, half-stupor that was his usual state.
Captain Eri sighed in relief.
“That was queer, wa'n't it?” he observed.
“He's had two or three of those spells in the last day or two,” was the answer.