"I have a ticket to Liverpool," he said; "but I suppose they would let me off at Queenstown, wouldn't they?"
"Why, certainly—how fast we are nearing land. I'll have to go down now and awaken father. We haven't much time to get ready."
He would have held her, had he dared. She was gone, and there were a hundred and one questions to ask her. She must not get away from him like this. He must know where they were going—get addresses by which to find them. He had no plans but what could be easily changed. Seeing Europe without Lucy Strong would be a dull, profitless excursion. Chester's thoughts ran along this line, when Lucy appeared again. The color had left her face.
"Father is very sick," she said to Chester. "He seems in a stupor. I can't wake him. Will you find the doctor?"
"I'll get him," he said. "Don't worry. We'll be down immediately."
Chester and the doctor found Lucy rubbing her father's hands and forehead, pleading softly for him to speak to her. The doctor after a hurried examination, said there was nothing serious. A nervous break-down of some kind only—no organic trouble—would be all right again shortly.
"But doctor, we get off at Queenstown," explained Lucy.
"Well, I think you can manage it. By the time you are ready to leave, he will be strong enough. This young man seems able to carry him ashore, if need be. Are you landing also," he asked of Chester.
"Well—yes."