CHAPTER XI
A VISIT TO CHINATOWN
It was long after daybreak when Roy awoke. He sat up on the edge of his bunk to look at his timepiece, but almost immediately fell back on his pillow. Something was wrong with him. Roy had had very few illnesses in his life and he did not at first know what ailed him. He felt sick all over. He heard the ship’s bell strike and realized that if he wanted any breakfast he would have to hustle. But at the thought of food he felt worse than ever. In fact, it seemed as though he never wanted to take food again. The very idea of it made him feel worse. Then he knew what was the matter. He was seasick.
Presently he got to his feet and punched the call bell. Then he lay down again. He became conscious that the ship was rolling violently—at least the motion seemed violent to Roy, though a seasoned sailor would have smiled at the idea. Sometimes a lurch of the ship almost threw Roy out of bed. The wind was howling about the wireless house. Things were rattling and creaking under its pressure. Rain was falling. Roy was sure that the ship was in the midst of a terrible and dangerous storm. He wondered if he were needed. Then he wondered if he would be able to get to his operating table. He felt so sick that he was sure he was going to die.
Then Sam, the steward, appeared. Roy could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the venerable darky enter his room smiling. Roy didn’t see how anybody could smile in such a storm. And he said so to Sam.
“Lawd bless you, Mr. Mercer,” said Sam. “Dis yere ain’t no great storm. It’s only a little gale. Wait till you sees one o’ dem September exenoxtail storms. Den you’ll know what a real storm am like.”
Roy felt relieved. “I feel sick enough for anything, Sam,” he said. “I don’t believe even an equinoctial storm could make me feel any worse. Can you do anything for me, Sam?”
“Lawd bless you, Mr. Mercer, I’ll fix you up in no time. Jess you stay in bed till I gets back,” and Sam disappeared through the doorway. In a few moments he reappeared, with a lemon and some concoction he had mixed in a glass. Roy gulped the mixture down and presently felt somewhat better. After a time he rose and dressed, but he did not go near the breakfast table. From time to time he sucked at the lemon, as Sam had told him to do. By the middle of the forenoon he felt much better. When the dinner call came, he decided that he would go down to the dining-room and perhaps eat some soup.
He expected to be teased a little, but there was almost no one to plague him. Chair after chair was empty, only a few seasoned voyagers having ventured to the dining-room. The purser was at his table, smiling and jolly as usual. It cheered Roy merely to look at him. The captain was not present and Roy knew he was pacing the bridge. However much he disliked Captain Lansford, Roy knew that the commander would be found at his post of duty in time of stress. But little did Roy realize that before his time came to leave the Lycoming he would see the day when, of all the things for which he was grateful, he was most thankful because Captain Lansford was in command of the Lycoming.
By nightfall the ship had run past the storm, and by the next day the wind was again blowing at a normal velocity, though the water continued to be rough.