Fearing that his refusal might be misconstrued, Harry gulped down the liquid, though with some difficulty.
“Come, that’s well,” said the captain, with satisfaction. “I won’t ask you to drink any more. Now suppose I tell you a little of the countries I have visited. We sailors see strange things.”
“I should be glad to have you,” said our hero, thinking that the captain took great pains to please him.
Brandon launched out into a long and circumstantial account of Brazil, and afterwards of Australia, both of which he had visited. Harry listened at first with interest, but gradually a strange sensation of drowsiness came over him. His eyes drooped heavily, and it was with a continual effort that he kept them open. The captain lowered his voice, and kept talking in a low, monotonous tone that helped the effect of the sleeping potion which, unobserved, he had mingled with the ale in Harry’s glass.
“I feel sleepy,” said our hero, at length, after making a desperate effort to keep awake. “It is strange, so early in the day.”
“I observed you found it hard to keep awake. I suppose it is the noise and bustle of the city, to which you are not accustomed. I’ll tell you what, my lad, I’ve got a little business to attend to on deck. As I shan’t go back to Nassau Street for an hour or two I’ll give you that time for a nap.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Harry, drowsily. “Won’t Mr. Fairchild think it strange, my being away so long?”
“I’ll make it all right with him. He’s very good-natured. So just lie down, and have your nap out.”
Harry lay down, and in two minutes his senses were locked in profound repose. Captain Brandon looked at him with satisfaction as he lay stretched out before him.
“It was a lucky thought of mine, the sleeping potion,” he said to himself. “He’s polite enough, but there’s plenty of will and determination about him. I can see that by the cut of his lip. He might have made me considerable trouble. Now, he’s safe to sleep eighteen hours at least, unless the druggist deceived me.”