"It would kill you," argued Stranleigh, "not by poisoning you, I take it, but by the mere absence of oxygen. You don't call nitrogen poisonous, do you?"
"No."
"Well, neither is ether; and I'm willing to bet you a ten-pound note on it. My prescription is plenty of fresh air, and if my tip is accepted, you should walk this deck every moment there is an opportunity; throw your shoulders back, hold your head high, chest in toward the throat, and draw breaths as long as the mast. If you do that, you'll be a new man before we reach England again, and there's no charge for either the prescription or the medicine."
Marlow drew a deep breath, without thinking, at once following the advice he had received.
"I hope so," he said.
The dinner that night was a triumph, and Stranleigh congratulated his host on acquiring such a jewel of a cook. Wine, coffee, liqueurs, and cigars were of the best. The doctor proved to be most agreeable, and although the Honourable John Hazel and Professor Marlow did not seem to be unduly elated by the good cheer, the others spent an enjoyable evening, and turned in to beds that were as comfortable and as steady as if they were on land.
Stranleigh thought he had just got between the
