gave in.
"I'll write you a prescription," he said doubtfully, "and see if it does
you any good. You'd better stay in bed for a while."
"There ain't much fear of my getting up, doc," answered the captain. "I
feel as weak as a cat."
But he believed in the doctor's prescription as little as did the doctor
himself, and when he was alone amused himself by lighting his cigar with
it. He had to get amusement out of something, for his cigar tasted like
nothing on earth, and he smoked only to persuade himself that he was not
too ill to. That evening a couple of friends of his, masters of tramp
steamers, hearing he was sick came to see him. They discussed his case
over a bottle of whisky and a box of Philippine cigars. One of them
remembered how a mate of his had been taken queer just like that and not
a doctor in the United States had been able to cure him. He had seen in
the paper an advertisement of a patent medicine, and thought there'd be
no harm in trying it. That man was as strong as ever he'd been in his
life after two bottles. But his illness had given Captain Butler a
lucidity which was new and strange, and while they talked he seemed to
read their minds. They thought he was dying. And when they left him he
was afraid.
The girl saw his weakness. This was her opportunity. She had been urging
him to let a native doctor see him, and he had stoutly refused; but now
she entreated him. He listened with harassed eyes. He wavered. It was
very funny that the American doctor could not tell what was the matter
with him. But he did not want her to think that he was scared. If he let
a damned nigger come along and look at him, it was to comfort _her_. He
told her to do what she liked.
The native doctor came the next night. The captain was lying alone,
half awake, and the cabin was dimly lit by an oil lamp. The door was
softly opened and the girl came in on tip-toe. She held the door open
and some one slipped in silently behind her. The captain smiled at this
mystery, but he was so weak now, the smile was no more than a glimmer in
his eyes. The doctor was a little, old man, very thin and very wrinkled,
with a completely bald head, and the face of a monkey. He was bowed and
gnarled like an old tree. He looked hardly human, but his eyes were very
bright, and in the half darkness, they seemed to glow with a reddish
light. He was dressed filthily in a pair of ragged dungarees, and the
upper part of his body was naked. He sat do
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