young Master Cranford's going on, sir."

"Only a moment, my good friend," said the gossip. "Do you think there
will be any danger?"

"Well, yes, sir," said the old sailor, with his eyes twinkling, but his
face as hard as if it had been cut out of wood; "this here is rather a
bad place to be caught in a storm. You see, sir, the water's rather
deep."

The captain had not been one-half so busy before during the voyage, and
his eyes were everywhere, seeing that there was nothing left loose; but
he found time twice over to go below to where Doctor Kingsmead was
seated by his patient's cot watching anxiously for every change, the
poor lad evidently suffering keenly from the furnace-like heat.

"How is he, Kingsmead?" asked the captain, anxiously.

"Bad as he can be," was the stern reply.

"But can't you--Bah! absurd! you know your business better than I can
tell you. Poor lad! How can I face his father when we get into port?
It will be heart-breaking work. It is heart-breaking work, doctor, for
the young dog seemed to have a way of getting round your heart, and I
couldn't feel this accident more keenly if he were my own son."

"Nor I," said the doctor, "if he were my own brother."

"God bless him, and bring him safely through it!" said the captain,
softly, as he laid his hand gently on the boy's brow. "I'm glad his
face is not disfigured."

"Yes, so am I," said the doctor; "it does not tell tales of the terrible
mischief that has been done."

"What do you call it--concussion of the brain?"

"Yes, there is no fracture of the skull; only of his collar-bone, and
that is a trifle compared to the other."

"You must bring him round, doctor. Troubles never come singly."

"What, have you some other trouble on hand?" said the doctor, rather
impatiently, for he wanted the captain to go and leave him alone with
his patient.

"Yes, don't you know?"

"I know nothing but that I have that poor boy lying there to be saved
from death if it be possible. Can't you have a wind-sail lowered down
here? The heat is intolerable."

"Wind-sail? You'll have wind enough directly. We're going straight
into a typhoon, and no other course is open to me in this reef-strewn
sea."

"A storm?"

"Yes, and a bad one, I expect. It will be pitch-dark directly."

"The fresh air will be welcome," said the doctor, calmly.

"Is the captain here?" said a voice at the state-room door--a voice
speaking in anxious tones.

"Yes; wha