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For he lay there half turned away with his eyes closed, and I heard him moan piteously again while I waited to hear Mr Frewen's departing step. But it did not come for a few moments. Then I heard him go into the adjoining cabin, and the opening of his medicine-chest quite plainly. "I don't believe he wants medicine," I thought. "He must be suffering from some internal injury."
Nearly a month passed, and then, at Frewen's suggestion, all the officers waited on the captain and begged him to release the unfortunate man; otherwise there was every prospect of the crew mutinying. "Is he willing to turn to again?" he asked. "Not as boatsteerer," replied Frewen. "Then he shall stay where he is," was the savage retort.
"Hist! some one coming," I said quickly, and I moved a couple of bottles belonging to Mr Frewen's store across the little opening, and took down another bottle to remove the stopper and begin sniffing at it as there was a sudden rattling at the door, which was thrown open, and Jarette entered.
Then the matter was thoroughly discussed, for Mr Frewen's plan proved to be not so easy on consideration as we had at first supposed. "You see, gentlemen," said Mr Brymer, "it's one thing to set a trap, and another to get your rats to walk into it. How were you thinking of giving it to them?" "I thought dissolved in water," replied Mr Frewen.
I could see it in Mr Frewen's eyes. I'm very glad now. If I got well, of course I should have to be tried and punished, and be a convict. I should deserve it, but the judge and lawyers would be very hard, and I don't want them to try me." "Oh, come, Walters, old chap," I cried in a choking voice, "don't take it like that."
He might have saved us from all this. Go and see him, and don't let him starve; though I suppose Mr Frewen's feeding him now on physic."
Bernie does not cross-examine much; but if anyone gets discomfited, he laughs a sort of little silver-whistle giggle, which is trying to the unhappy blunderer. 'MAY 9TH. Frewen is deep in parachutes. I beg him not to drop from the top landing in one of his own making. 'JUNE 6TH, 1876. Frewen's crank axle is a failure just at present but he bears up.
"Or if Mr Preddle would only use those bellows of his on the sails," said her brother, smiling. "Why, you're ever so much better," I said quickly, "or you wouldn't joke like that." "Yes," he said with a sigh, "I feel better. Mr Frewen's doing me good, or else it's this lovely soft, warm air." "Oh, we shall have him running ashore in New Zealand like a stag, Miss Denning," I cried, getting up.
I could not resist the temptation of listening, and as I was standing close by the partition, I took a step nearer to the opening I had made, and softly drew aside the bottle I had placed before it. Mr Frewen's lips moved, and I took it that he said "Be careful," so I nodded to him as much as to say "I will," and listened.
And Frewen was a mascotte, and his half-caste boat-steerer was another, for whenever a pod of whales were sighted the second mate's boat was invariably the first to get fast, and on one glorious day off Sunday Island Frewen's boat killed three sperms a bull and two cows and the four other boats each got one or two, so that for over a week, in a calm sea, and under a cloudless sky of blue by day and night, "cutting in" and "trying-out" went on merrily, and the cooper and his mates toiled like Trojans, setting-up fresh barrels; and the smoke and glare of the try-works from the deck of the Casilda lit up the placid ocean for many a mile, whilst hordes of blue sharks rived and tore and ripped off the rich blubber from the whales lying alongside waiting to be cut-in, and Keller shot or lanced them by the score as he stood on the cutting-in stage or in one of the boats made fast to the chains on the free side.
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