"I know better how to do this than you, Sir Francis," he said, laughing.
"Same as the sharks, eh?" said Charlie.
"Just the same ... but, let's have a look at your medicine chest, and give me the lint quick."
So Jack took charge, and acted with such confidence and skill,—finally binding up my wound, which was but a slight one—that Charlie stood by dumbfounded and with a curious soft look in his face which I didn't understand till later. The tears came into my eyes at the wonderful tenderness of the lad, as he bent over me.
"Do I hurt you?" he kept saying. "You and I are pals, you know."
"You don't hurt me a bit, dear Jack," I answered; "what a clever lad you are!"
Then Jack looked up for a moment, and caught Charlie's wondering look; and, it seemed to me that he changed colour, and looked frightened.
"Sir Francis is jealous," he said; "but I've finished now. I guess you'll sleep all right after that dose I gave you. Good night...." And he slipped away.
Jack had proved himself a practised surgeon, and, as he predicted, I slept well—so well and so far into next morning that Charlie at last had to waken me.