when Pollard died. Then the boy Barry
fell ill--out of sheer fright, Percival declared; but his attack was a
very slight one, prolonged from want of energy rather than real
indisposition. Heron was the only nurse, for Fenwick's strength had to
be utilised in procuring food for the party; and, as he was often up all
night and busy all day long, it was no surprise to Brian when at last he
staggered, rather than walked into the hut, and threw himself down on
the ground, declaring himself so tired that he could not keep awake. And
he had scarcely said the words when slumber overpowered him.

Brian, who was beginning to move about a very little, crawled to the
door and managed to attract Fenwick's attention. The man--a rough,
black-bearded sailor--came up to him with a less surly look than usual.

"How's Barry?" said Brian.

"Better. He's all right. They've both got round the corner now, though I
think the master thought yesterday that Barry would follow Pollard. It
was faint-heartedness as killed Pollard, and it's faint-heartedness
that'll kill Barry, if he don't look out."

"See here," said Brian, indicating the sleeper with his finger. "You
don't think Mr. Heron has got the fever, do you?"

Fenwick took a step forward and looked stolidly at Percival's face,
which was very pale.

"Not he. Dead-beat, sir; that's all. He's done his work like a man, and
earned a sleep. He'll be right when he wakes."

Armed with this assurance, Brian resumed his occupation of weaving
cocoa-nut fibre; but he grew uneasy, when, at the end of a couple of
hours, Percival's face began to flush and his limbs to toss restlessly
upon the ground. He muttered incoherent words from time to time, and at
last awoke and asked for water. Brian's walking was a matter of
difficulty; he took some minutes in crossing the room to bring a
cocoa-nut, which had been made into a cup, to Percival's side; and by
the time he had done it, Heron was wide awake.

"What on earth are you doing, bringing me water in this way? You ought
to be lying down, and I ought to go to Barry. If I were not so sleepy!"

"Go to sleep," said Brian. "Barry's all right. I asked Fenwick just
now."

"I suppose I've gone and caught it," said Percival, in a decidedly
annoyed tone of voice. "A nice state of things if I were to be laid up!
I won't be laid up either. It's to a great extent a matter of will; look
at Barry--and Pollard." His voice sank a little at the latter name.

"You'r