Well now if that isn’t cool—yes, almost insulting. That is the way you men have to give vent to your pent up feelings. And simply because your sister gives vent to her feelings, you become mulish. But really, Charles, it was the most ridiculous sight I ever saw. There lay the handsomest man I ever saw, (the Lieutenant was all ears,) and the Captain’s wife sat by his side and rubbed his face and cried. Yes, she really cried. The tears ran down her face like an avalanche from the Appenines. And if I stirred, she would point her finger and “Hist! Hist!” The canary bird had to be removed, for fear its breath would annoy the sleeper. But the most ridiculous thing was the kissing. Yes, when she thought I wasn’t looking, she kissed him. Thinks I to myself, if the Captain should catch you at that, there would be mutiny on board. But when the Captain came, she kissed him all the more, and then the Captain kissed her. Now wasn’t that ridiculous? He kissed her because she kissed another man. But Cora, what is the doctor doing for him? The most ridiculous thing in the world. He is turning his frame into an apothecary shop and his stomach into a chemical laboratory. Believe me brother, both sides of the cabin are lined with vials, bottles, plasters and rags. He is to take this kind every ten minutes, and that kind every thirty minutes, and so on with the different kinds until we get around, and then it is time to commence with the first again. I suppose, Cora, that you rendered Mrs. Davis all the assistance you could? Certainly I did. I held the bowl while the doctor bled him. The doctor said that in all cases of bruises and concussions, blood-letting was necessary. And he did the necessary up for him scientifically, for when he got through, I think he had drawn all the blood out of him. That was kind in you Cora, and relieved Mrs. Davis from a very unpleasant duty. Oh, I did more than that. I was time-keeper. Time-keeper—what do you mean by that? I mean that I advanced on his stomach by schedule time, and cried “time” like a referee in a prize fight, and Mrs. Davis advanced with the spoon. Will he live, Cora? Yes, as long as the medicine holds out. He hasn’t got any time to die now. His mouth is continually opening and shutting, and as long as that continues he is safe. Does he move or speak? Yes. Both. He continually moves his eyes, and their gaze is piercing. He looked at me as if he intended to look me through. Those large, beautiful orbs continually followed me, and once he raised his hand and said “Amy.” It was spoken soft and affectionately. I think he took me for some other person. Intelligence, not delirium beamed in his eye, and that eye followed me wherever I went. What does it mean, brother? Who is he? What is he? and where did he come from? What makes the Captain and his wife take such an interest in him? Were you and Mrs. Davis alone with him all night? Yes, excepting an old white cat. Oh, Charley, I wish I was a cat.