"My head aches terribly," I replied, faintly; and a kind of deadly sickness came over me again.
She bathed my head again with spirits, and the act revived me.
"This is terrible," said she, trembling with emotion.
"Don't be alarmed, Marian; I shall be better soon," I replied, trying to change my position, for I was lying on one of my arms, and was very uncomfortable.
"Won't you untie him, Peter?" said my fair attendant, appealing to the black helmsman.
"Gorrificious! I'd like to do it first rate; but I dassent," he answered, glancing at the form of Mr. Whippleton, who was snoring heavily under the influence of the frequent drams he had taken.
"Then I will," she added, resolutely.
"Don't do it, miss. Mr. Whippleton is uncommon ugly."
"I don't care how ugly he is. I am not afraid of him now. Where is your knife, Philip?"
"In my vest pocket," I replied, encouraged by a hope that the resolute girl might set me free.