I drove out the father and son and applied myself to reviving the mother. I shall not forget the terrible night I had with her, after she had resuscitated. At length, I had to give her a few drops of laudanum to get her off to sleep. Pauline slept like a child. I woke up the next morning to that strange feeling of hushed stillness which pervades a ship when her engines are at rest after a long period of unbroken activity. We were pitching heavily, evidently at anchor, for our upward rise was every now and then suddenly and jarringly arrested. We had arrived! I went to look at my patients and found them both suffering from sea-sickness. This vicious plunging of the yacht was more than their weak stomachs could stand. I gave them each a steadying draught and then went on deck. The two Vandermeulens were on the bridge with the skipper. I ignored them, instinctively avoiding their certain excitement. Upon our port bow was a fairly large island, its rocky shore crowned with a dense tropical foliage. On the other side of us was a small islet, barren save for a few sparse trees scattered over it, surf breaking white upon its beaches. Old Providence and its satellite, Santa Katalina! Between the two islands a strong current was running, with a heavy ground-swell in which we plunged and kicked, straining at our cables. No wonder the two ladies were ill, I thought, as the deck sank sickeningly sideways under my feet. I went into the saloon and found that the Vandermeulens had already breakfasted. As I ate my solitary meal, I could hear the heavy trampling of feet on the deck overhead, and guessed that they were hoisting outboard the little steam-launch we used when in harbour. When I had finished, I went to have another look at Pauline. Her mother was with her. Mentally, she was completely her normal self, with apparently no memory even of that trance-personality which had for the second time surged up in her. But she was feeling very ill in this violent and disturbing motion of the anchored yacht. Old Vandermeulen came in. “Get up and dress, Pauline!” he commanded, brutally, as though bearing down opposition in advance. “We’re going ashore!” His wife sprang forward. “Oh, no, no, William! Don’t take her! Don’t take her!--Don’t tempt Providence. Don’t go! William! William!” she clung to him in supplication. “She’s too ill to go! She’s too ill to go, isn’t she, doctor?” The old man shook her off. “Nonsense!” he said roughly. Nevertheless, he turned enquiringly to me. I considered the pros and cons dispassionately for a moment. Of course, the old lady’s fears were mere superstition and did not influence me in the least. “Well,” I said, “I think that if Miss Vandermeulen feels equal to the effort of dressing, it would do her good to get away from the yacht and walk about on firm land for an hour or two.”