How long
I would have lain in contemplation of this peaceful scene I know not,
but my mind was recalled suddenly and painfully to the past and the
present by the sight of Bill, who was seated on the deck at my feet,
with his head reclining, as if in sleep, on his right arm, which rested
on the tiller. As he seemed to rest peacefully, I did not mean to
disturb him, but the slight noise I made in raising myself on my elbow
caused him to start and look round.
"Well, Ralph, awake at last, my boy? You have slept long and soundly,"
he said, turning towards me.
On beholding his countenance I sprang up in anxiety. He was deadly
pale, and his hair, which hung in dishevelled locks over his face, was
clotted with blood. Blood also stained his hollow cheeks and covered
the front of his shirt, which, with the greater part of his dress, was
torn and soiled with mud.
"O Bill!" said I with deep anxiety, "what is the matter with you? You
are ill. You must have been wounded."
"Even so, lad," said Bill in a deep, soft voice, while he extended his
huge frame on the couch from which I had just risen. "I've got an ugly
wound, I fear, and I've been waiting for you to waken, to ask you to
get me a drop o' brandy and a mouthful o' bread from the cabin lockers.
You seemed to sleep so sweetly, Ralph, that I didn't like to disturb
you. But I don't feel up to much just now."
I did not wait till he had done talking, but ran below immediately, and
returned in a few seconds with a bottle of brandy and some broken
biscuit.
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