'All that he said?'
'Ah! it was nothing very cheering, I perceive,' remarked the sufferer, in a low tone, and with trembling lips. 'But speak out, my lad--speak out! Whatever that withered old stick could say, I can bear to hear.'
'Well, then,' stammered Jörgen, in considerable agitation, 'he said--he said--that you had not long to live.'
'Did he, indeed! Well, well, one must put up with that. A few years of comfort and pleasure are probably worth a long life of care and want.'
'Ah! God help you, and send you better thoughts, mate: you cannot look forward to years.'
'May I not? How long can I count upon, Jörgen? Speak, my son. Why do you hang your head so? I have seen death too often close under my eyes to be afraid of it. When did he hint that I might be called away?'
'He said that you would die to-night, and that no human skill could save you.'
There was a deep and prolonged silence in the room after these words had been uttered.
'To-night!' at length exclaimed the mate, in thick and trembling accents. 'I am to die to-night!' And as he repeated this dreadful sentence he burst into tears, and into loud, convulsive sobs.
Jörgen was much affected; he wrung the sick man's hand, but did not venture to speak for fear of betraying his emotion. At length he said, in a subdued and sad voice,