“I should think so,” said I. “I hear Macquoid’s voice; here he comes.” I uttered a few groans, which Spellman repeated with considerably more vigour. I let him go on, while I sat up with a pleased countenance to welcome the assistant-surgeon, who appeared with a big bottle containing some black-looking stuff, and a glass. Spellman went on groaning.
“Poor fellow, I’ve got something which will do him good,” observed Macquoid with a twinkle in his eye. “Here, take this, my lad; there is nothing like it for internal pains.”
As he poured out the nauseous draught, the smell alone was so horrible that I resolved to do anything rather than take it. Spellman, however, fearing that he should be detected if he refused, held his nose with his finger and thumb, and with many a wry face gulped it down.
“Don’t you think a little more would do him good?” said I, in a hurried tone. “I don’t want any myself; the fact is, Macquoid, that the plasters you put on yesterday did me so much good, and you have treated me so well altogether, that I feel getting quite well and strong, and have been waiting all the morning for your coming, to ask if I might get up.”
Macquoid shook his head at me. “We’ll see how the wound looks first,” said he. “But you must take a little of my elixir asafoetidae et liquorice first. You evidently properly appreciate its virtues by recommending that Spellman should have more of it.”
“Ah, but you know, as you often say, when you drink up my grog, ‘What’s one man’s meat, is another man’s poison,’” I answered promptly, for Macquoid was very fond of making use of all sorts of proverbs, especially when he wished to show that he was right in anything he chose to do. “I have no doubt that it will do Spellman a great deal of good, or of course you would not give it to him, it would be meat to him; but as I am perfectly free of pains it would be positively throwing it away on me, though I don’t say it would be poison, of course not.”
“Oh, you humbug, you arrant humbug,” exclaimed Spellman, sitting up in his hammock and clenching his fist at me. “Why, not five minutes ago, you were groaning away worse than I was—that he was, Macquoid. Give him some of your beastly stuff. It’s not fair that I should take it, and not him. He promised to keep me company.”
“When the pains return he shall have more of it, depend on that,” said Macquoid, scarcely able to dress my wound for laughing. “He has tasted it already. You shall have his allowance to-morrow if you are not better.”
Spellman having betrayed himself, had not only to drink the mixture which was made as nasty as could be, though probably perfectly harmless, but to get up and be ready to make himself useful if required. My neck was rather stiff, but the pain was so slight that I felt almost able to return to my duty. I was glad to get about the decks, because I wanted to find out if Toby’s information had been believed. I saw nothing to indicate that anyone apprehended an outbreak of the prisoners. The officers walked the deck as usual, singly or in couples, with a look of perfect unconcern, and the marines were scattered about, employed in their ordinary occupations. A Frenchman, who was, I guessed, the French captain, was pacing the quarter-deck with Captain Collyer, and his countenance looked very sad and troubled; but that arose, I concluded, because he had lost his ship and was a prisoner Mr Bryan and some of the other gun officers spoke to me very kindly, and congratulated me on being about again. At length Macquoid sent me below, suggesting that it might be wiser to take a little more of the elixir before I went to sleep, but I declined the favour, assuring him that the very thought of it restored me to unwonted strength. He laughed, and wished me good night, advising me to make the most of my time, as I should soon have to keep watch again. “Such wide awake fellows as you are cannot be spared,” he observed. I was soon asleep. I awoke with a start. All was dark. I heard seven bells strike; I knew it must be towards the end of the first watch. The voice of an officer hailing the look-out sounded peculiarly distinct, and served to show the quiet which reigned on board. The sea was smooth, we were carrying a press of sail, and I could hear the rush of the ship through the water. Suddenly the silence was broken by the heavy tramp of men along the deck, while loud shouts and shrieks seemed to burst from every point. The drum beat to quarters, and I heard the voices of officers in loud distinct tones perfectly free from agitation issuing orders.
“What is the matter?” I exclaimed, starting up.