CHAPTER XVIII.
THE SICK SAILOR—THE STORM—THE LEE-SHORE—"BREAKERS A-HEAD"—THE YACHT IN DISTRESS—WEATHERING THE STORM—RETURN TO BERGEN—THE PHYSICIAN—THE WHIRLPOOL—THE WATER-SPOUT—HOMEWARD BOUND—SCARBOROUGH—YARMOUTH ROADS—ERITH—GREENWICH HOSPITAL—CONCLUSION.
Whatever might have been my refinement of feeling, I was not deterred from eating venison for a week afterwards, day by day, and assenting to its delicious flavour, which, for the satisfaction of the son of Epicurus who may read these lines, I would state, tasted very strongly of the moss on which the animal had fed, and comprehended every charming idea he can form of the term "gamey."
All was hilarity on board; and though the evening wind in passing only kissed gently the lazy canvass, nothing occurred to mar the serenity of every face and heart until the afternoon of the day following that on which we sailed from the village. The sailors had been partaking of venison as well as ourselves; but there were not those sounds of joviality incidental to festive occasions, and the silence in the forecastle attracted our notice. "Talk of the Devil," my ancient countrywomen say, "and you will be sure to see him;" but though we had not spoken of his majesty, we certainly alluded to the crew; and whether D——, their representative, bears any affinity to that mighty potentate, I have never heard; yet certain it is, the said D——, with a countenance of ill omen, came into the cabin, and regretting that he should disturb us at such a time, observed,
"I am afraid, my Lord, King is very bad. He eats nothing, and complains a good deal."
"Of what does he complain?" asked R——.
"Of a dull pain in his stomach, my Lord," replied D——, "and a continual desire to retch."
"Oh! it's only a little attack of bile," observed R——; "I will soon put him to rights."