“Mr. Ellery,” he shouted, “where are you?”
The minister's head and shoulders appeared at the forecastle companion. “Here I am, doctor,” he said. “Will you come down?”
The doctor made no answer in words, but he hurried briskly across the deck. One man, Ebenezer Capen, an old fisherman and ex-whaler from East Trumet, started to follow him, but he was the only one. The others waited, with scared faces, by the rail.
“Get her under way and inshore as soon as you can,” ordered Dr. Parker. “Ebenezer, you can help. If I need you below, I'll call.”
The minister backed down the ladder and the doctor followed him. Parker bent over the bunk for a few moments in silence.
“He's pretty bad,” he muttered. “Mighty little chance. Heavens, what a den! Who broke that window?”
“I did,” replied Ellery. “The air down here was dreadful.”
The doctor nodded approvingly. “I guess so,” he said. “It's bad enough now. We've got to get this poor fellow out of here as soon as we can or he'll die before to-morrow. Mr. Ellery,” he added sharply, “what made you do this? Don't you realize the risk you've run?”
“Some one had to do it. You are running the same risk.”
“Not just the same, and, besides, it's my business. Why didn't you let some one else, some one we could spare—Humph! Confound it, man! didn't you know any better? Weren't you afraid?”