“One of the—Down THERE? Has he—”
“Yes, he has.”
“Help! help!” screamed the voice shrilly. “Are you goin' to leave me to die all alone? He-elp!”
The minister turned. “Hush!” he called, in answer to the voice, “hush! I'll bring you water in a minute. Burgess,” he added, “you and the rest go ashore. I shall stay.”
“You'll stay? You'll STAY? With THAT? You're crazy as a loon. Don't be a fool, man! Come on! We'll send the doctor and somebody else—some one that's had it, maybe, or ain't afraid. I am and I'm goin'. Don't be a fool.”
Thoph, from the dory, shouted to know what was the matter. Ellery climbed the ladder to the deck and walked over to the rail. As he approached, Burgess fell back a few feet.
“Thoph,” said the minister, addressing the pair in the dory, “there is a sick man down in the forecastle. He has been alone there for hours, I suppose, certainly since his shipmates ran away. If he is left longer without help, he will surely die. Some one must stay with him. You and the rest row ashore and get the doctor and whoever else you can. I'll stay here till they come.”
Thoph and his companions set up a storm of protest. It was foolish, it was crazy, the man would die anyhow, and so on. They begged the minister to come with them. But he was firm.
“Don't stop to argue,” he urged. “Hurry and get the doctor.”
“Come on, Charlie,” ordered Bill. “No use talkin' to him, he's set. Come on! I won't stay alongside this craft another minute for nobody. If you be comin', come.”