"Simon Quarle!" exclaimed Daniel Meggison. "We've got the whole menagerie!"
"Exactly, sir. Just what occurred to me, sir. You'll excuse me, sir, I know; lady very ill along 'ere—the married one."
Daniel Meggison struggled on deck, and tried to think. By what extraordinary process of events they had all contrived to follow he did not know; still less did he understand who the two strange ladies and the gentleman out of breath might be. He felt, however, that he would wait a little before imparting his knowledge to anyone else; some old spirit of deviltry that had long lain dormant in him whispered to him to be silent, and to await developments.
But for the fact that Pringle was such a very discreet servant the discovery must have been made long before it actually was. But Pringle was that admirable type of servant that told himself he had certain duties to perform, and was well paid for performing them, and that nothing else mattered. Consequently during the next two days he waited upon these new passengers, prostrate in their cabins, with the most assiduous care, and said nothing to anyone. Daniel Meggison stumbled about the ship, hourly expecting the explosion that must follow the discovery of the full passenger list; Bessie was blissfully unconscious of everything, except that she was on the wide sea, with the man she loved for company.
Gradually, however, the weather changed; and gradually one by one the white-faced passengers crept out of their cabins. Pringle, feeling quite certain in his own mind that his master would welcome their advent in restored health, bustled about to get out deck chairs, and generally to make his patients comfortable. It was destined to be a morning of surprises for everyone; but Pringle did not know that, and he was as cheerful as ever as he gradually persuaded one and another to go up on deck.
It happened that Gilbert was standing alone when he heard a movement behind him, and turning, saw the first of the invalids being helped up the companion by Pringle, who made use of little encouraging remarks on the way. The patient was Mrs. Stocker, who clung to Pringle as she might have clung to her best friend.
"That's it, ma'am—you won't know yourself when you're on deck, and get the breeze. Other foot, ma'am; that's right—now here we are, and here's Mr. Byfield absolutely waitin' for us. If you would be so kind, sir"—this to the amazed Gilbert—"if you would be so kind, sir, as to take the lady's other arm, I could get her to the chair there in a mere matter of winking. That's it, ma'am; take your time from us—asking the master's pardon."
"What—in the name of all that's marvellous——" Gilbert was staring at the woman who clutched him, and was quite mechanically stepping along the deck in the direction indicated.
"I can explain everything," said Mrs. Stocker. "I came on account of my niece; I have suffered severely for my devotion. I am suffering now."
"The gentleman, sir, said he'd find his way up alone," said Pringle. "It's taken it out of the gentleman a lot, sir; much more frail than the lady, sir. Talkin' of angels!—here he is, sir."