"Mr Frewen," I whispered as I rose, "tell me how you think he is now." The doctor bent down, and after a little examination, rose again. "There is no difference which I can detect," he said gravely. "But you will--you will--" "Will what, Dale?" he said, for I had paused. "You will not treat him as if--as if he were a criminal?" "How can I help it? He is one. We have him to thank for our position here, for those two people being left on the ship, at the mercy of those scoundrels." His whole manner changed as he said this, and his voice sounded full of fierce anger. "Yes," I faltered, "that's all true; but you will not be revengeful?" "A doctor revengeful, Dale?" he said quickly. "I don't mean that," I said. "I mean, you will do your best to save his life?" "For him to be punished by the law?" "I was not thinking of that," I said hastily. "I mean, that you will do all you can to cure him, Mr Frewen?" "Why, of course, my lad--of course. Am I not a doctor? I am neither prosecutor nor judge. You have curious ideas about my profession." "I could not help it, Mr Frewen," I pleaded. "It is only that I am so anxious for him to recover." "And do you another ill turn, Dale--betray us once more!" "No, no, it isn't that." I cried; "it is only that I should like him to live and be sorry for all this. I believe, after what has taken place to-night, he would be only too glad to come over to our side, and fight for us." "Perhaps so, if he were well enough; but who would ever dream of trusting him again?" I was silent, thinking as I was how terrible was the slip my messmate had made, and seeing now clearly how it must take years for him to climb back to the position he held when we left the London Docks. "There," said Mr Frewen at last, "you need not be afraid, Dale. I shall treat him as I would any other patient. A medical man has but one aim when he treats a sick person, a surgeon one who is injured--to make the sufferer well again. That is my duty here, and I shall do it to the best of my ability." I did not answer, only laid my hand upon his, and he pressed it warmly, holding it for some moments before turning his back to me; and I made out that he rested his arm upon the side of the boat, and sat gazing at the dim lights which showed where the ship lay. For some time no one spoke, and we lay there gently rising and falling on the golden-spangled water. There was not a breath of wind, and the silence was so great that any one could have imagined that the occupants of the boat were asleep. But no one dozed for a moment, only sat or lay there, trying to bear patiently their mental and bodily suffering. It was the captain who broke the silence, toward morning, by saying to the mate-- "Have you settled what to do, Brymer?"