She stooped, and with the quick skill of woman, rolled down the stocking on her right leg. Modestly daring, she stretched out her foot and slightly lifted her dress. On the outer side of the tapering limb was an ugly bruise, scratched deeply by the coral.
He exhibited due surgical interest. His manner, his words, became professional.
"We will soon put that right," he said. "A strip off your muslin dress, soaked in brandy, will—"
"Brandy!" she exclaimed.
"Yes; we have some, you know. Brandy is a great tip for bruised wounds. It can be applied both ways, inside and out."
This was better. They were steadily drifting back to the commonplace. Whilst she stitched together some muslin strips he knocked the head off a bottle of brandy. They each drank a small quantity, and the generous spirit brought color to their wan cheeks. The sailor showed Iris how to fasten a bandage by twisting the muslin round the upper part of his boot. For the first time she saw the cut made by the axe.
"Did—the thing—grip you there?" she nervously inquired.
"There, and elsewhere. All over at once, it felt like. The beast attacked me with five arms."
She shuddered. "I don't know how you could fight it," she said. "How strong, how brave you must be."
This amused him. "The veriest coward will try to save his own life," he answered. "If you use such adjectives to me, what words can I find to do justice to you, who dared to come close to such a vile-looking creature and kill it. I must thank my stars that you carried the revolver."