exit of the Prince had stayed my departure, and abruptly Day came to a
pause by me.

"That will do, gentlemen," he said quietly. Holgate, who was at the
door, opened it, and his round face swung gently on his shoulders till
his gaze rested on me again. Something flickered in it, something like
a leer on that malicious blackness, and then he was gone. Day stood
stock-still looking by me after him. As I turned to follow he addressed
me.

"Dr. Phillimore, if you can spare a moment before you change," he said
civilly, "I shall be glad of a few minutes."

I answered promptly, wondering, and the door closed behind Barraclough.

"Doctor, I haven't slept a wink for nights," burst out the captain
suddenly; "I must have something."

He had a haggard, drawn look, and his eyes seemed sunken in his head.
At once I was the professional man, and not an officer of the ship.

"Sit down, sir," said I, "and tell me. What is it?"

He sat down shakily. "I don't like my officers, doctor, and I don't
like my employer," he said peevishly. I held his pulse, which was
jumping.

"What else," I said.

"You are not a married man?" he inquired, looking at me restlessly.
"No; never mind," he paused, and proceeded in his ridiculously precise
voice. "I had the misfortune to lose my wife and my son in a
fortnight--about a month ago. It has rather upset me."

It might have seemed comic communicated in that matter-of-fact tone,
but somehow it struck me as tragic. That this vain, self-contained, and
reticent man should confess to the frailty of humanity to a man he
disliked was the measure of his suffering.

"I can mend the sleep, captain," said I. "You must do the rest."

"Good God!" he shook his head and stood up.

"No," said I, "sit down. I'll see to you. Let me ring."

In a few minutes I had my case of instruments, and carefully extracted
what I wanted, while Day looked on feverishly impatient.

"I'm going to do what has already been done this night," I said
gravely, "but in a better cause."

I raised the syringe, and bade him put back the sleeve of his pyjama. A
rush of pain went through my arm which had been bruised and battered in
the sea, and suddenly the cabin went from me. For the first and only
time in my life I fainted.

When I came to Day was bending over me, glass in hand, a look of
solicitude on his face.

"It seems we have changed places," said I feebly, "and that you are my
physician."

He set the glass down. "Doct