"Only this. Did everyone--was everyone--"

Mark stopped short.

"You're not to talk while you're so weak. Now then, what do you want to
know? Did any one die?"

"Yes."

Bob nodded his head, and a pang shot through Mark as he thought of the
handsome young lieutenant, and the frank, manly fellows who had formed
their crew.

He closed his eyes, and a feeling of weak misery choked his utterance.
He would have given anything for the power to question his companion,
and learn for certain who were living of the party; for the idea had in
his weakness become now a certainty, that though he had seemed to hear
that Mr Russell was recovering, he it was who had died.

At last the power to think returned, and he turned his wan, pain-drawn
face to Bob.

"Tell me," he whispered.

"No, sir, nothing," cried the doctor. "Here, I have brought you the
little draught myself, so as to see that it is taken properly. I don't
know why I should have so much trouble over a pack of lads who are more
worry than they are worth. Why, bless my heart, Mr Vandean, you are
going backward. Here, Mr Howlett, go to my quarters and send my fellow
here."

CHAPTER TEN.

IN THE DOCTOR'S CLUTCHES.

It was the next day, and, in spite of wind-sails and open ports, hotter
than ever. The _Nautilus_ was back off the Palm River, lying at anchor,
waiting as usual for news which might end in a more successful
expedition than the last, for the nefarious traffic was still being
carried on just under the nose of Her Majesty's little cruiser, in spite
of every effort to catch the cunning skippers who set the officers at
defiance.

Mark opened his eyes after a long, refreshing sleep, for Bob Howlett had
contrived to keep the cabin comparatively cool; and as soon as the lads'
eyes met, the sick middy's thoughts went back to the last conversation
they had held.

"Bob," he whispered.

That young gentleman held up his hand.

"Only a word or two and I'll be quiet."

"Yes, you'd better. If you say much I'll fetch old Whitney to give you
an awful dose."

"Tell me this: is the captain much cut up, and Mr Staples, too?"

"Of course they are, both of them, horribly."

Mark sighed, and was silent for some moments.

"Tell me about Tom Fillot," he said at last. "How is he?"

"Pretty well all right again."

There was another pause, which lasted some minutes, before the sick lad
spoke again.

"Couldn't the doctor save them?"

"No; only the