"
"Seeing things!" faltered Walter.
"Yes, blue centipedes and red sharks. It's like the time I keeled
over at college, you know."
"Ugh!" half grunted Walter, with no very cheerful heart, for the
prospect before him, if Jack were to be ill. Jack was far from well,
when the lights were turned aglow, and Cora came in to see him. It
seemed to be a return of his old malady, brought on by an excess of
work and worry.
There was little sleep for any of them the rest of the night, for
Cora insisted upon sitting up to look after Jack, and Walter made
himself up a bunk in the dining compartment, being ready on call.
Toward morning Cora's brother sank into an uneasy slumber under the
influence of a sedative, but he awoke at seven o'clock and seemed
feverish.
"We must have a doctor from the island," decided Cora, as she saw her
brother's condition. "We can't take any chances."
The Danish physician who came out in the boat heartened them up a
little by saying it was merely a relapse, and that Jack would be
much better after a few days' rest.
"Just stay here with him, or anchor a little farther out," was his
suggestion. "The sea breezes will be the best medicine for him. I
can't give him any better. Just let him rest until he gets back his
nerve."
This advice they followed. But there were anxious nights, and for
three of them Walter and Cora divided the task of sitting up with
Jack.
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