"Making things ship-shape—clearing decks."
"What do you know about clearing decks?" said Mr. Copley.
"I will show you."
And the sick man watched with languid amusement to see how, as his new nurse went from place to place, the look of the room changed. Shawls and clothing were folded up and bestowed on a chest of drawers; slippers were put ready for use at the bedside; books were laid together neatly on the table; and a small army of cups and glasses and empty vials were fairly marched out of the room. In a little while the apartment was in perfect order, and seemed half as large again. The invalid drew a long breath.
"You're an odd one!" said he, when he caught Mr. Shubrick's eye again. "Where did you learn all that? and who are you? and how did you come here? I have a right to know."
"You have a perfect right, and shall know all about me," was the answer; "but first, here is your broth, hot and good." (Mr. Shubrick had just received it from the little maid at the door). "Take this now, and to-morrow, if you behave well, you shall have something better."
Mr. Copley suffered himself to be persuaded, took the broth, and then repeated his question.
"I am Sandie Shubrick, lieutenant in the United States navy, on board ship 'The Red Chief;' just now on furlough, and in England."
"What did you come to England for?"
"Business and pleasure."