"Poor fellow, poor fellow!
it's all over now," he murmured soothingly, as the boy's body fell
motionless into his arms, which he hastily stretched to prevent him from
tumbling on the deck.
But Eric heard not; and the man, touched with the deepest pity, carried
him down tenderly into his hammock, and wrapped him up in a clean
blanket, and sat by him till the swoon should be over.
It lasted very long, and the sailor began to fear that his words had
been prophetic.
"How is the young varmint?" shouted the skipper, looking into the
forecastle.
"You've killed him, I think."
The only answer was a volley of oaths; but the fellow was sufficiently
frightened to order Roberts to do all he could for his patient.
At last Eric woke with a moan. To think was too painful, but the raw
state of his back, ulcerated with the cruelty he had undergone, reminded
him too bitterly of his situation. Roberts did for him all that could be
done, but for a week Eric lay in that dark and fetid place, in the
languishing of absolute despair.
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