—some hard tack, and a tankard of rum that smells of tar, and you've got me as contented as little Jack Horner with his Christmas pie. If, now that you're rich, you wish to live the simple life, as you said, come to me and take lessons."
The Honourable John Hazel, in spite of the effort he made, found some difficulty in clearing his perturbed brow. Several things that Lord Stranleigh said, quite unconsciously, had touched him on the raw. He was learning that the way of the transgressor is hard, even before the transgression is discovered. He went forward, and mounted the bridge with the Captain, leaving the other two to pace the deck together.
"Has the doctor made any examination of you yet?"asked Stranleigh.
"No, I have merely been introduced to him. He stared rather hard at me, but said nothing. I suppose, like everyone else, he jumps to the conclusion that it's consumption, but he will find my lungs all right when he tests them."
"I'm no physician," said Stranleigh, "but I'll tell you my theory. Whether you succeed in analysing ether or not, I'll wager you it isn't poisonous. You see, we're breathing it all the time, and it doesn't appear to hurt us."
"We're breathing nitrogen, too," said the Professor, "yet if you inspired nothing else, it would kill you in a very short time."
