“Captain! what is the matter? Are you ill?—wounded?” Receiving no answer he placed his hands under his captain’s arms to lift him up, and in doing so perceived that his coat was saturated with some warm glutinous matter. Instantly withdrawing his hands for examination, he found them covered with thick blood. In serious alarm now, he turned the captain and drew him gently to a spot where the fresh air could blow upon him, and then he ran to the head of the companion ladder, and, calling to the sentinel stationed near, he said: “Scribner, pass the word to the cockpit that the captain requires the presence of the surgeon immediately in his cabin.” Ethel, for his part, rushed back to the side of the captain and began rapidly to unbutton his coat and vest. When he came to his underclothing he found it crimson with blood, that had flowed so freely as even partially to fill the space between his top-boots and the limbs they covered. The young lieutenant groaned in anguish of spirit, for he loved his captain as man seldom loves man. The surgeon now came down the companion ladder. Seeing Ethel bending over the prostrate form of the captain and tearing away the blood-stained clothing, he rushed forward, exclaiming: “What’s all this? What’s the matter? The captain wounded? Good Lord! he is one clot of blood! In Heaven’s name, sir, why was I not told before?” “I came in here but a moment ago and found him lying flat on his face,” replied the young man, in a heartbroken voice. “Oh, doctor, is he dying?” “I hope and trust not. He has fainted from loss of blood.” “I loved him as a father! he was so good, so kind! Oh, doctor, is he wounded mortally?” “How can I tell until I examine the wound? Here, take hold of this sleeve of his undershirt while I take the other. Now draw gently. There’s the wound. And what a wound! I fear it is all over with our poor captain! Come, Ethel! stop that! This is no time for blubbering like a woman, my boy! A minute, as we use or waste it, may save or lose our captain’s life. Here, take the water in this basin and gently swab the blood away from that wound, which I perceive has nearly stopped bleeding, while I run for my instruments,” said the doctor, rushing out of the cabin as fast as his fat legs could carry him. No braver man than young Ethel had boarded the _Sea Scourge_ that day; yet, as soon as the doctor was gone, he burst into sobs that shook his whole frame; and his fast-falling tears mingled freely with the water with which he washed his captain’s wound. He did his work as tenderly and as thoroughly as possible, and had perfectly cleansed the wound by the time the doctor returned. And even to the young man’s unprofessional eye the wound looked less formidable than at first. The doctor got down upon his knees and made a very careful examination, and then he lifted his head and exclaimed: