h to ascertain who and
what he was. All that was known was the fact that he had been brought on
board from the Maud, which Sparks had learned from the sailors who
assisted in removing him. The commander and the "Big Four" were still
closeted on the upper deck, and there was no one to answer any
questions.

Before Captain Scott had finished his report, Dr. Hawkes rejoined the
party; and he was immediately beset by the curious ones for information.
The seal of secrecy had been removed by the commander, and he had not
been instructed to be silent. He knew the patient as soon as he saw him;
for Mazagan had been a prisoner on board of the ship for a considerable
time after his capture in Pournea Bay.

"What is your patient, Dr. Hawkes?" asked Mrs. Blossom before he had
fairly crossed the threshold of the door.

"A wounded man; bullet in the shoulder," replied the surgeon with
professional discretion. "It is not a woman, and Ball has been called in
as his nurse."

"A bullet in the shoulder!" exclaimed the excellent woman. "Will he
die?"

"Undoubtedly he will, though perhaps not for twenty or thirty years."

"Is the wound dangerous?"

"I don't think so."

"But who is the man?"

"Captain Mazagan."

"Captain Mazagan!" exclaimed the good lady; and the name was repeated by
several others, for they had known him as the pirate who had attacked
the Maud for the purpose of robbery, as they supposed, and they had seen
him occasionally on the upper deck when the conferences were in
progress there.

"How happened he to be wounded in the shoulder, doctor?" persisted the
worthy lady.

"Because the bullet hit him there," replied the stout surgeon with a
chuckle, which was promptly communicated to Uncle Moses.

"But who shot him?"

"The man who fired the gun at him."

"Who fired the gun?"

"I don't know."

"What was Captain Mazagan doing here?"

"I don't know."

"Has there been a fight here?"

"Not that I am aware of."

"Then how did he get wounded?"

"I don't know," replied Dr. Hawkes, who evidently enjoyed the defeat of
the inquisitor; and Uncle Moses's huge frame was jarring like a pot of
jelly under the influence of his inward chuckles.

"Have you dressed the wound of your patient without finding out anything
at all about how the man was wounded?" demanded the good lady, disgusted
at her failure.

"It was my affair to dress his wound, and not to pump him, as I should
have done if he had taken a dose of