The steward came hurrying up at that moment, to give a sharp look-out for danger, but seeing the enemy far astern, and the yacht gliding swiftly along toward the open sea, he walked confidently to where the group stood by the wheel. "Doctor Instow would be glad if you would come into the cabin, Sir John." "It's about, Ned," cried Jack. "I'd forgotten him." He ran to the cabin hatch, and Sir John followed quickly. "Hah!" cried the doctor. "I'm glad you've come. He's very bad, Jack. Yes, very bad, Meadows, poor lad." "But from a wound like that?" said Sir John, and he and his son bent over the poor fellow where he lay on one of the cabin settees, with his eyes wide open, and looking very fixed and strange. "Yes, from a wound like that," replied the doctor. "It would be nothing in an ordinary way, but I saved the head of the arrow which passed through his arm, and it and the top of the shaft had been well smeared with some abominable preparation. The poison is affecting his system in a very peculiar manner." "Can he hear what you say?" whispered Jack anxiously. "No; he is quite insensible. He was talking wildly a few minutes ago, but he could not understand a word." "Surely you don't think it will prove fatal?" said Sir John. The doctor was silent. "Oh, Doctor Instow," cried Jack in agony, "this is too terrible. The poor fellow came out for what he looked upon as a pleasure-trip, and now he is like this. Oh, pray do something." "My boy," said the doctor gravely, "I have done everything possible." "But try something else," cried Jack angrily. "I thought doctors could do anything with medicine." "I wish they could," said his father's friend sadly; "but it is at times like this, Jack, we doctors and surgeons find out how small our powers are." "But only this morning he was so happy and full of life and fun," cried Jack, as he sank on his knees by the couch to take the poor fellow's cold hand in his. "It seems too hard to believe. Ned! Ned! you can hear what I say?" There was no reply, and the boy looked wildly from one to the other. "Oh, father," he cried, as he saw their grave looks, "is he dying?" Sir John was silent, and Jack caught at the doctor's hand. "Tell me," he cried. "But it can't be so bad as that. It would be too dreadful for him to die." "He is very bad," said the doctor slowly, "but I have not given up all hope. It is like this, Meadows. The poison is passing through his system, and in my ignorance of what that poison really is, I am so helpless in my attempts to neutralise it. Even if I knew it would be desperate work." "Then you can do nothing?" cried Jack in agony. "I can do little more, my lad, but help him in his struggle against it. The battle is going on between a strong healthy man and the insidious enemy sapping his life. Nature is the great physician here."