Armed with this assurance, Brian resumed his occupation of weaving cocoa-nut fibre; but he grew uneasy, when, at the end of a couple of hours, Percival's face began to flush and his limbs to toss restlessly upon the ground. He muttered incoherent words from time to time, and at last awoke and asked for water. Brian's walking was a matter of difficulty; he took some minutes in crossing the room to bring a cocoa-nut, which had been made into a cup, to Percival's side; and by the time he had done it, Heron was wide awake. "What on earth are you doing, bringing me water in this way? You ought to be lying down, and I ought to go to Barry. If I were not so sleepy!" "Go to sleep," said Brian. "Barry's all right. I asked Fenwick just now." "I suppose I've gone and caught it," said Percival, in a decidedly annoyed tone of voice. "A nice state of things if I were to be laid up! I won't be laid up either. It's to a great extent a matter of will; look at Barry--and Pollard." His voice sank a little at the latter name. "You're only tired: you will be all right presently." "You don't think I'm going to have the fever, then?" "No," said Brian, wondering a little at his anxiety. There was a long pause: then Heron spoke again. "Luttrell." It was the first time that he had addressed Brian by his name. "If I have the fever and go off my head as the others have all done, will you remember--it's just a fancy of mine--that I--I don't exactly want you to hear what I say! Leave me in this hut, or move me into the other one, will you?" "I'll do as you wish," said Brian, seriously, "but I needn't tell you that I should attach no importance to what you said. And I should be pleased to do anything that I was able to do for you, if you were ill." "Well," said Percival, "I may not be ill after all. But I thought I would mention it. And, Luttrell, supposing I were to follow Pollard's example--" "What is the good of talking in that way when you are not even ill?" "Never mind that. If you get off this island and I don't, I want you to promise me to go and see Elizabeth." Then, as Brian hesitated, "You must go. You must see her and talk to her; do you hear? Good Heavens! How can you hesitate? Do you mean to let her think for ever that I have betrayed her trust?" Decidedly the fever was already working in his veins. The flushed face, the unnaturally brilliant eyes, the excitement of his manner, all testified to its presence. Brian felt compelled to answer quietly, "I promise." "All right," said Percival, lying down again and closing his eyes. "And now you can tell Fenwick that he's got another patient. It's the fever; I know the signs."