“He staggered into me, white as a ghost. I got him to bed: he was in a burning fever. In the night he was lightheaded, and all his talk was about you. He kept fretting lest you should not have got safe home. It is always so. We care the most for those that care the least for us.” “Is he in the Indiaman?” “No, Miss Fountain, he is not in the Indiaman,” cried Eve, her wrath suddenly rising again; “he lies there, Miss Fountain, in that room, at death's door, and you to thank for it.” At this stab Lucy uttered a cry like a wounded deer. But this cry was followed immediately by one of terror: the door opened suddenly, and there stood David Dodd, looking as white as his sister had said, but, as usual, not in the humor to succumb. “Me at death's port, did you say?” cried he, in a loud tone of cheerful defiance; “tell that to the marines!!” CHAPTER XXII. “I HEARD your voice, Miss Lucy; I would know it among a million; so I rigged myself directly. Why, what is the matter?” “Oh, Mr. Dodd,” sobbed Lucy, “she has told me all you have gone through, and I am the wicked, wicked cause!” David groaned. “If I didn't think as much. I heard the mill going. Ah! Eve, my girl, your jawing-tackle is too well hung. Eve is a good sister to me, Miss Lucy, and, where I am concerned, let her alone for making a mountain out of a mole-hill. If you believe all she says, you are to blame. The thing that went to my heart was to see my skipper run out his stunsel booms the moment he saw me overhauling him; it was a dirty action, and him an old shipmate. I am glad now I couldn't catch her, for if I had my foot would not have been on the deck two seconds before his carcass would have been in the Channel. And pray, Eve, what has Miss Fountain got to do with that? the dirty lubber wasn't bred at her school, or he would not have served an old messmate so. “Belay all that, and let's hear something worth hearing. Now, Miss Lucy, you tell me--oh, Lord, Eve, I say, isn't the thundering old dingy room bright now?--you spin me your own yarn, if you will be so good. Here you are, safe and sound, the Lord be praised! But I left you under the lee of that thundering island: wasn't very polite, was it? but you will excuse, won't you? Duty, you know--a seaman must leave his pleasure for his duty. Tell me, now, how did you come on? Was the vessel comfortable? You would not sail till the wind fell? Had you a good voyage? A tiresome one, I am afraid: the sloop wasn't built for fast sailing. When did you land?” To this fire of eager questions Lucy was in no state to answer. “Oh, no, Mr. Dodd,” she cried, “I can't. I am choking. Yes, Miss Dodd, I am the heartless, unfeeling girl you think me.” Then, with a sudden dart, she took David's hand and kissed it, and, both her hands hiding her blushing face, she fled, and a single sob she let fall at the door was the last of her. So sudden was her exit, it left both brother and sister stupefied. “Eve, she is offended,” said David, with dismay.