ok here, you, Poole Reed; what does this man mean by coming into my
cabin like this? Is he mad?"

"No, no," said Poole, laughing. "It's all right; I'd forgotten. He
asked me if he hadn't better bring you something every day now for a bit
of lunch. It's all right, Andy. Mr Burnett's quite ready. Go and
fetch it."

The man nodded, grinned, in no wise hurt by his reception, and backed
out again.

"Rum-looking fellow, isn't he, Mr Burnett?"

"Disgusting-looking person for a cook. Can anybody eat what he
prepares?"

"We do," said Poole quietly. "Oh, he keeps his galley beautifully
clean, does Andy Campbell--Cawmell, he calls himself, and the lads
always call him the Camel. And he works quite as hard."

He had only just spoken when the man returned on the tips of his bare
toes, looking, for all the world, like the ordinary able seaman from a
man-of-war. He bore no tray, napkin, and little tureen, but just an
ordinary ship's basin in one hand, a spoon in the other, and carefully
balanced himself as he entered the cabin, swaying himself with the basin
so that a drop should not go over the side.

"There y'are, me puir laddie. Ye'll just soop that up before I come
back for the bowl. There's pepper and salt in, and just a wee bit onion
to make it taste. All made out of good beef, and joost the pheesic to
make you strong."

"Give it to me, Andy," cried Poole, and the man placed it in his hands,
smiled and nodded at the prisoner, and then backed out with his knees
very much bent.

Poole stood stirring the broth in the basin slowly round and round, and
spreading a peculiar vulgar odour which at first filled the invalid with
annoyance; but as it pervaded the place it somehow began to have a
decided effect upon the boy's olfactory nerves and excited within him a
strange yearning which drove away every token of disgust.

"It's too hot to give you yet," said Poole quietly. "You must wait a
few minutes."

Fitz's first idea had been that he would not condescend to touch what he
was ready to dub "a mess." It looked objectionable, being of a strange
colour and the surface dotted with yellowish spots of molten fat, while
mingled with them were strange streaky pieces of divided onion. But
animal food had for many days been a stranger to the sick lad's lips--
and then there was the smell which rapidly became to the boy's nostrils
a most fascinating perfume. So that it was in a softened tone that he
spoke next, as