ceased.
The fire had for the first time gone out, and the patience of Jackson
could not now be taxed, because he was lying on his back in the stupor
of fever. Percival set one of the men to work with two sticks; but the
wood was nearly all damp, and it was a weary business, even when two dry
morsels were found, to get them to light. However, it was better than
having nothing to do. Want of employment was one of their chief trials.
The men could not always be catching fish and snaring birds. They were
thinking of building a small boat; but Jackson's illness deprived them
of the help of one who had more practical knowledge of such matters than
any of the others, and threw a damp over their spirits as well.

Jackson's illness seemed to give Percival a pretext for absenting
himself from the hut in which the so-called Mackay lay. He had, just at
first, an invincible repugnance to meeting him again; he could not make
up his mind how Brian Luttrell would expect to be treated, and he was
almost morbidly sensitive about the mistake that he had made respecting
"the steerage passenger." At night he stayed with Jackson, and sent the
other men to sleep in Mackay's hut. But in the morning an absolute
necessity arose for him to speak to his enemy.

Jackson was sensible, though extremely weak, when the daylight came: and
his first remark was an anxious one concerning the state of his
comrade's broken leg. "Will you look after it a bit, sir?" he said,
wistfully, to Heron.

"I'll do my best. Don't bother yourself," said Percival, cheerfully. And
accordingly he presented himself at an early hour in the other
sleeping-place, and addressed Brian in a very matter of fact tone.

"Your leg must be seen to this morning. I shall make a poor substitute
for Jackson, I'm afraid; but I think I shall do it better than Pollard
or Fenwick."

"I've no doubt of that," said the man with the brown beard and bright,
quick eyes. "Thank you."

And that was all that passed between them.

It was wonderful to see the determined, unsparing way in which Percival
worked that day. His energy never flagged. He was a little less
good-tempered than usual; the upright black line in his forehead was
very marked, and his utterances were not always amiable. But he
succeeded in his object; he made himself so thoroughly tired that he
slept as soon as his head touched his hard pillow, and did not wake
until the sun was high in the heaven. The men showed a good deal o