"Is that you, Noddy?" asked the captain, faintly.

"Yes, sir. How do you feel, captain?"

"I think I'm a little better. I wish you would ask Mollie to come in; I want to see her."

"Does your head ache now, sir?" asked Noddy, who did not like to tell him that his daughter had just been taken with the fever.

"Not so bad as it did. Just speak to Mollie."

"I think you are ever so much better, sir. You will be out in a day or two."

"Do you think so, Noddy?"

"Yes, sir; I'm certain you will," answered the boy, who knew that faith was life in the present instance.

"I'm glad you think so. I certainly feel a great[181] deal better," replied the captain, as though he was already cheered by the inspiration of hope.

"You must be careful, and keep still; and you will be all right in a week, at the most."

"I hope so; for I couldn't help thinking, when I was taken down, what a bitter thing it would be to poor Mollie if I should die so far from home and friends."

"You have got over the worst of it now, captain."

"Is Mollie out in the cabin?" asked the sufferer, persistently returning to the subject near his heart.

"No, sir; she is not, just now."

"Has she gone on deck?"

"No, sir."

"Where is she, Noddy?" demanded he, earnestly, as he attempted to raise himself up in his cot.

"Don't stir, captain; it will make you worse, if you do."

"Tell me where Mollie is at once, or I shall jump out of my berth. Is she—is she—"

"She is in her room, captain. Don't be worried about her," replied Noddy, who was afraid that the[182] truth would have a bad effect upon the devoted father. "She laid down a little while ago."

"Is she dead?" gasped the captain, with a mighty effort to utter the appalling word.

"O, no, sir! She was taken sick a little while ago."

"O, mercy!" groaned the sick man. "I know it all now."

"It's no use to deny it, sir. She has got the fever."

"And I lay here helpless!"

"She said she felt a little better when I came out. I gave her the medicine, and did everything for her."

"I must go to her."

"You will worry her to death, if you do, captain. She is more troubled about you than she is about herself. If you lay still, so I can report that you are doing well, it will be the best thing in the world for her. It will do her more good than the medicine."

"Tell her I am well, Noddy!"

"It won't do to tell her too much; she won't believe anything, if I do," said Noddy, sorely troubled about the moral management of the cases.

"Tell her I am well, Noddy; and I will go and sit[183] by her," replied the sufferer, who was no more able to get out of his bed than he was to cure the fearful disease.

"I can't do anything, captain, if you don't keep still in your bed. She is a little out just now; but I think she will do very well, if you only let her alone."

Captain McClintock was in an agony of suspense; but Noddy succeeded in consoling him so that he promised to remain quietly in his bed. As physician and nurse, as well as friend and comforter, the cabin-boy found his hands full; but he had a heart big enough for the occasion; and all day and all night he went from one patient to another, ministering to their wants with as much skill and judgment as though he had been trained in a sick room.

Mollie grow worse as the hours wore heavily away; but this was to be expected, and the patient nurse was not discouraged by the progressive indications of the disease. Towards morning the captain went to sleep; but it required all the faithful boy's energies to keep Mollie in her bed, as she raved with the heated brain of the malady.

In the morning one of the seamen was reported out of danger, and the others in a hopeful condition.[184] Noddy was completely exhausted by his labors and his solicitude. Mr. Lincoln saw that he could endure no more; and as he had obtained a few hours' sleep on deck during the night, he insisted that the weary boy should have some rest, while he took care of the sick. Noddy crawled into his berth, and not even his anxiety for poor Mollie could keep him awake any longer. He slept heavily, and the considerate mate did not wake him till dinner-time, when he sprang from his berth and hastened to the couch of the sick girl.

Another day passed, and Mollie began to exhibit some hopeful symptoms. Her father was still improving. The patients in the forecastle were also getting better. Noddy felt that no more of the Roebuck's people were to be cast into the sea. Hope gave him new life. He was rested and refreshed by the bright prospect quite as much as by the sleep which the kindness of Mr. Lincoln enabled him to obtain.

The schooner still sped on her course with favoring breezes; while Noddy, patient and hopeful, performed the various duties which the fell disease imposed upon him. He had not regarded the danger of taking the fever himself. He had no thought[185] now for any one but poor Mollie, who was daily improving. One by one the crew, who had been stricken down with the malady, returned to the deck; but it was a long time before they were able to do their full measure of duty. In a week after Mollie was taken sick, her father was able to sit a portion of the day by her side; and a few days later, she was able to sit up for a few moments.

The terrible scourge had wasted itself; but the chief mate and three of the crew had fallen victims to the sad visitation. Yellow fever patients convalesce very slowly; and it was a fortnight before Captain McClintock was able to go on deck; but at the same time, Mollie, weak and attenuated by her sufferings, was helped up the ladder by her devoted friend and nurse. The cloud had passed away from the vessel, and everybody on board was as happy as though disease and death had never invaded those wooden walls. But the happiness was toned to the circumstances. Hearts had been purified by suffering. Neither the officers nor the men swore; they spoke to each other in gentle tones, as though the tribulations through which they had passed had softened their hearts, and bound them together in a holier than earthly affection.[186]

As Mr. Watts and three sailors had died, the vessel was short-handed, but not crippled; and the captain decided to prosecute his voyage without putting into any port for assistance. Mr. Lincoln was appointed chief mate, and a second mate was selected from the forecastle. Everything went along as before the storm burst upon the devoted vessel.

"How happy I am, Noddy!" exclaimed Mollie, as they sat on deck one afternoon, when she had nearly recovered her strength. "My father was saved, and I am saved. How grateful I am!"

"So am I, Mollie," replied Noddy.

"And how much we both owe to you! Wa............