"You're doing that on purpose," groaned Walters. "Oh, do, do call for help." "No, I'd better run and fetch Mr--Mr--what's the doctor's name?" "We never heard his name," moaned my messmate; "fetch him. I knew how it would be. It's a shame to poison officers with bad preserved meat." "But I ate a lot of it," I said, as I triumphantly finished fastening my second brace. "Ah, you'll have it directly. Oh dear, oh dear! I am so bad--why did I ever come to sea?" Slosh--whish--bang! A wave had struck the ship, and we could hear the water flying over us, as, after a tremendous effort to keep on my legs, I came down, sitting on my sea-chest; and then, instead of springing up again, I sat rolling from side to side, laughing silently and trying hard to master the intense desire to break forth into a tremendous roar. Walters did not see it for a few moments, but kept on bemoaning his condition. "I'll complain to the owners myself, if the captain doesn't take it up. It's too bad. Oh, do make haste--the doctor--the doctor--I'm dying." Then with a good deal of energy he cried, "Why, you're laughing." "Of course I am," I said, giving way now to my mirth. "Why, you're only a bit sea-sick." "I'm not," he snapped out; "I'm poisoned by that bad meat we had. Oh, the doctor, the doctor!" "You're not," I said. "It's only sea-sickness. Why, I should have thought you could stand it." "Oh, help--help!" "Hush, don't make that noise!" I cried. "Then fetch the doctor, oh, pray, pray!" I hesitated no longer, but hurried out, and one of the first I encountered on deck was the bluff-looking sailor, whom my companion had snubbed. "Look here," I cried quickly, "Mr Walters is very ill. Where's the doctor's cabin?" Just then the ship made a lurch, and so did I, but by giving a kind of hop and jump and getting my legs apart, I preserved my balance. "Well done, youngster," cried the man. "You've been at sea before." "Yes, often," I replied, "but where's the doctor?" "I'll show you, sir. Number three's his cabin. Next but two to the skipper's. But your messmate's only got the Channel chump, has he?" "I think he's only sea-sick, but he says it was the meat last night." "Clck!" It was a curious sound that one cannot spell any nearer, partly laugh, partly cry of derision. "That's what they all says, sir," he continued. "Sea-sick, sure as my name's Bob Hampton." As he spoke he had descended with me, and ended by pointing out number three. "There you are, sir; two rollers at night, and a shake the bottle in the morning. That's Mr Frewen's cabin; I must get back on deck." The next minute I was knocking at the doctor's door. "Hullo!" came instantly. "Would you get up, please, sir? Walters is very bad." "So will some more be," I heard him say, "with this sea on." Then, louder, "Wait a minute." I waited a minute and then a bolt was drawn. "Come in." I entered, to find the young doctor hurriedly dressing.