Now it was that our poor solitary hermit felt the
magnitude of his imprudence and the weight of the evils of his peculiar
situation. That he was about to be seriously ill he knew, and it behoved
him to improve the time that remained to him, to the utmost. Everything
useful to him was in the ship, and thither it became indispensable for
him to repair, if he wished to retain even a chance for life. Opening an
umbrella, then, and supporting his tottering legs by a cane, Mark
commenced a walk of very near a mile, under an almost perpendicular sun,
at the hottest season of the year. Twenty times did the young man think
he should be compelled to sink on the bare rock, where there is little
question he would soon have expired, under the united influence of the
fever within and the burning heat without. Despair urged him on, and,
after pausing often to rest, he succeeded in entering the cabin, at the
end of the most perilous hour he had ever yet passed.
No words of ours can describe the grateful sense of coolness, in spite
of the boiling blood in his veins, that Mark Woolston experienced when
he stepped beneath the shade of the poop-deck of the Rancocus. The young
man knew that he was about to be seriously ill and his life might depend
on the use he made of the next hour, or half-hour, even. He threw
himself on a settee, to get a little rest, and while there he
endeavoured to reflect on his situation, and to remember what he ought
to do. The medicine-chest always stood in the cabin, and he had used its
contents too often among the crew, not to have some knowledge of their
general nature and uses. Potions were kept prepared in that depository,
and he staggered to the table, opened the chest, took a ready-mixed dose
of the sort he believed best for him, poured water on it from the
filterer, and swallowed it. Our mate ever afterwards believed that
draught saved his life. It soon made him deadly sick, and produced an
action in his whole system. For an hour he was under its influence, when
he was enabled to get into his berth, exhausted and literally unable any
longer to stand. How long he remained in that berth, or near it
rather—for he was conscious of having crawled from it in quest of
water, and for other purposes, on several occasions—but, how long he
was confined to his cabin, Mark Woolston never knew. The period was
certainly to be measured by days, and he sometimes fancied by weeks. The
first probably was the truth, though it might have been a fortnight.
Most of that time his head was light with fever, though there were
intervals when reason was, at least partially, restored to him, and he
became painfully conscious of the horrors of his situation. Of food and
water he had a sufficiency, the filterer and a bread-bag being quite
near him, and he helped himself often from the first, in particular; a
single mouthful of the ship's biscuit commonly proving more than he
could swallow, even after it was softened in the water. At length he
found himself indisposed to rise at all, and he certainly remained
eight-and-forty hours in his berth, without quitting it, and almost
without sleeping, though most of the time in a sort of doze.
At length the fever abated in its violence, though it began to assume,
what for a man in Mark Woolston's situation was perhaps more dangerous,
a character of a low type, lingering in his system and killing him by
inches. Mark was aware of his condition, and though: of the means of
relief. The ship had some good Philadelphia porter in her, and a bottle
of it stood on a shelf over his berth. This object caught his eye, and
he actually longed for a draught of that porter. He had sufficient
strength to raise himself high enough to reach it, but it far exceeded
his powers to draw the cork, even had the ordinary means been at hand,
which they were not. There was a hammer on the shelf, however, and with
that instrument he did succeed in making a hole in the side of the
bottle, and in filling a tumbler. This liquor he swallowed at a single
draught. It tasted deliciously to him, and he took a second tumbler
full, when he lay down, uncertain as to the consequences. That his head
was affected by these two glasses of porter, Mark himself was soon
aware, and shortly after drowsiness followed. After lying in an uneasy
slumber for half an hour, his whole person was covered with a gentle
perspiration, in which condition, after drawing the sheet around him,
the sick man fell asleep.
Our patient never knew how long he slept, on this all-important
occasion. The period certainly included part of two days and one entire
night; but, afterwards, when Mark endeavoured to correct his calendar,
and to regain something, like a record of the time, he was inclined to
think he must have lain there two nights with the intervening day. When
he awoke, Mark was immediately sensible that he was free from disease.
He was not immediately sensible, nevertheless, how extremely feeble
disease had left him. At first, he fancied he had only to rise, take
nourishment, and go about his ordinary pursuits.
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