Ferrier had to use
the knife first, for the accident was not so recent as he could have
wished; then for near half an hour he was working like some clever
conjurer, while the vessel heaved slowly, and the reek of the cabin
coiled rankly round him. What a picture! That man, the pride of his
university, the rising hope of the Royal Society, the professor whom
students would have idolized, was bending his superb head over a poor,
groaning sailorman, and performing a hard operation amid air that was
merely volatile sewage! A few men looked on; they are kind, but they all
suffer so much that the suffering of others is watched with passive
callousness.
"Brandy now, my man. This is your first and last drink, and you may make
it a good one. Don't give him any more, skipper, even if you have it on
board. You know why? Ah! the colour's coming back again. Now, my lad,
we're going to make your bed up on the cabin floor. Hand me a flannel;
and you, my man, some water out of the kettle. Now for a clean place.
I'll set up as a housemaid when I go ashore."
"Excuse _me_, sir, but if you thinks you're goin' to be let to scrub
that ar plank, sir, you're mistaken. I'm skipper here, and I'll do that
jest to show you how we thinks of your politeness, mister. Hand over
that scrubber."
"All right, you obstinate mule; of course you'll have your own way. Let
me see his mattress, then. Won't do! Which of you durst come with the
boat, and I'll send a cocoanut-fibre one for him?"
"We never talks about durst here, sir.
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