"We are going to move you to your own house," he said.
"No, you're not," said the other, promptly.
"You'll be more comfortable there," urged the doctor.
"I'm not going to be moved," said Captain Sellers, firmly. "It might be fatal. I had a chap once—fell from aloft—and after he'd been in the saloon for a day or two I had him carried for'ard, and he died on the way. And he wasn't nearly as bad as I am."
"Well, we'll see how you are to-morrow," said the doctor, with a glance at Mrs. Willett.
"I shall be worse to-morrow," said the captain, cheerfully. "But I don't want to give any trouble. Send my housekeeper in to look after me. She can sleep in the next room."
They argued with him until his growing deafness rendered argument useless. A certain love of change and excitement would not be denied. Captain Sellers, attended by his faithful housekeeper, slept that night at No. 5, and awoke next morning to find his prognostications as to his condition fully confirmed.
"I'm aching all over," he said to Mrs. Willett. "I can't bear to be touched."
"You'll have to be moved to your own house," said Mrs. Chinnery, who had come in at Mrs. Willett's request to see what could be done. "We expect my brother home in a day or two."
"Let him come," said the captain, feebly. "I sha'n't bite him."