Then she went in search of a surgeon and procured an opiate, which she administered to her patient. Then she renewed the wet towel, rearranged the disordered bed, darkened the room and left Judith to repose. If any of my readers imagine this portrait of Judith to be overdrawn, I can assure them it is not. I knew this girl for years. She was just the “medley of contraries”—the mixture of wit and folly, good sense and absurdity, spirit and cowardice, selfishness and self-devotion, that I represent her to have been. I lost her, and could have better spared a better. From the cabin Miss Conyers returned to the cockpit, to her wounded, bringing smiles to the faces of the poor sufferers, as she tenderly eased their positions, turned their pillow, bathed their faces and hands, or held cooling drinks to their feverish lips. It was while Britomarte was engaged in this humane work, that the surgeon was summoned on the upper deck. But little did she imagine that he was called to attend Justin or that Justin had the slightest need of his care. Britomarte did not confine her attentions to the wounded on the _Xyphias_. But when she had done all she could for them she visited the _Sea Scourge_ and ministered to the sufferers there. The next morning the repairs upon the _Xyphias_ were completed, so that she was once more in good fighting order. The men were then transferred to the _Sea Scourge_ to expedite the work there. Lieutenant Ethel found the decks of the prize clean and sweet, the wounded men in their hammocks, and the work progressing so rapidly that the privateer would be fit for sailing in twenty-four hours. Britomarte, worn out by her arduous labors of the day before, slept very late that morning; and upon entering the cabin she found that the breakfast had been long set. She was very hungry, but not knowing the condition of her companions, she patiently waited for their appearance, only wondering at their prolonged absence. At length the steward entered the cabin, and she inquired what detained the gentlemen. The man, forewarned not to alarm her, answered that neither Captain Yetsom nor Mr. Rosenthal had risen yet. So Britomarte, amazed at their self-indulgence and unsuspicious of their true state, breakfasted alone, and then took in a cup of tea and a round of toast to Judith, whose fever was now gone, but who still kept her bed from the weakness of reaction. Finding still that her companions did not appear, she became uneasy and went to seek the surgeon and inquire of him the true reason of their absence. Dr. Brown informed her that they were both wounded, though not dangerously; and that he had ordered both of them to keep quiet for a day or two. “My Brother Justin wounded! And I not know it until now! Oh, Dr. Brown, I must go to him at once!” she exclaimed, in excessive agitation. “No, Miss Conyers, you must not—you of all persons.”