“You mustn’t mind its being nasty,” he said.  “Where’s a spoon?”

He looked round for one, but the skipper took the powder from his hand, and licked it from the paper as though it had been sherbet.

“For mercy’s sake don’t say it’s cholera,” he gasped.

“I won’t say anything,” said the doctor.  “Where did you say the money was?”

The skipper pointed to his trousers, and Mr. Mackenzie, his national spirit rising in hot rage, took out the agreed amount and handed it to the physician.

“Am I in danger?” said the skipper.

“There’s always danger,” said the doctor, in his best bedside manner.  “Have you made your will?”

The other, turning pale, shook his head.  “Perhaps you’d like to see a solicitor?” said Carson, in winning tones.

“I’m not bad enough for that,” said the skipper, stoutly.

“You must stay here and nurse the skipper, Mr. Mackenzie,” said Carson, turning to the mate; “and be good enough not to make that snuffling noise; it’s worrying to an invalid.”

“Snuffling noise?” repeated the horror-struck mate.

“Yes; you’ve got an unpleasant habit of snuffling,” said the doctor; “it sometimes.  I worries me meant to speak to you about it before.  You mustn’t do it here.  If you want to snuffle, go and snuffle on deck.”

The frenzied outburst of the mate was interrupted by the skipper.  “Don’t make that noise in my cabin, Mr. Mackenzie,” he said, severely.

Both mates withdrew in dudgeon, and Carson, after arranging the sufferer’s bedclothes, quitted the cabin and sought his friend.  Mr. Thomson was at first incredulous, but his eyes glistened brightly at the sight of the half-sovereign.

“Better hide it,” he said, apprehensively; “the skipper ’ll have it back when he gets well; it’s the only coin we’ve got.”

“He won’t get well,” said Dr. Carson, easily; “not till we get to Hong-kong, that is.”

“What’s the matter with him?” whispered the solicitor.

The doctor, evading his eye, pulled a long face and shook his head.  “It may be the cooking,” he said, slowly.  “I’m not a good cook, I admit.  It might be something got into the food from the medicine-chest.  I shouldn’t be at all surprised if the mates are taken bad too.”

And indeed at that very moment the boy came rushing to the galley again, bawling out that Mr. Mackenzie was lying flat on his stomach in his bunk, punching the air with his fists and rending it with his language.  The second officer appeared on deck as he finished his tale, and glancing forward, called out loudly for the cook.

“You’re wanted, Frank,” said the solicitor.

“When he calls me doctor, I’ll go,” said the other, stiffly.

“Cook!” bawled the second officer. “Cook! COOK!”

He came running forward, his face red and angry, and his fist doubled.  “Didn’t you hear me calling you?” he demanded, fiercely.