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The Dark Star

Page 131

"I'll take the papers to Karl, and then I can remain in my

stateroom----"

"No! Lift his legs, I tell you! You want I hold him in my arms all

day while you talk, talk, talk! You take his legs right away

quick----!"

He staggered a few paces forward with his unwieldy burden and, setting

one knee on the sofa, attempted to force Neeland's head and shoulders

through the open port. At the same moment a rapid knocking sounded

outside the stateroom door.

"Quick!" breathed the nurse. "Throw him on his bed!"

The blue-eyed, golden-bearded man hesitated, then as the knocking

sounded again, imperative, persistent, he staggered to the bed with

his burden, laid it on the pillows, seized his crutches, rested on

them, breathing heavily, and listening to the loud and rapid knocking

outside the door.

"We've got to open," she whispered. "Don't forget that we found him

unconscious in the corridor!" And she slid the bolt noiselessly,

opened the stateroom door, and stepped outside the curtain into the

corridor.

The cockney steward stood there with a messenger.

"Wireless for Mr. Neeland----" he began; but his speech failed and his

jaw fell at sight of the nurse in her cap and uniform. And when, on

his crutches, the bearded man emerged from behind the curtain, the

steward's eyes fairly protruded.

"The young gentleman is ill," explained the nurse coolly. "Mr. Hawks

heard him fall in the corridor and came out on his crutches to see

what had happened. I chanced to be passing through the main corridor,

fortunately. I am doing what I can for the young gentleman."

"Ow," said the steward, staring over her shoulder at the bearded man

on crutches.

"There iss no need of calling the ship's doctor," said the man on

crutches. "This young woman iss a hospital nurse und she iss so

polite and obliging to volunteer her service for the poor young

gentleman."

"Yes," she said carelessly, "I can remain here for an hour or two with

him. He requires only a few simple remedies--I've already given him a

sedative, and he is sleeping very nicely."

"Yess, yess; it iss not grave. Pooh! It is notting. He slip and knock

his head. Maybe too much tchampagne. He sleep, and by and by he feel

better. It iss not advisable to make a fuss. So! We are not longer

needed, steward. I return to my room."

And, nodding pleasantly, the bearded man hobbled out on his crutches

and entered his own stateroom across the passage.

"Steward," said the nurse pleasantly, "you may leave the wireless

telegram with me. When Mr. Neeland wakes I'll read it to him----"

"Give that telegram to me!" burst out a ghostly voice from the

curtained room behind her.

Every atom of colour left her face, and she stood there as though

stiffened into marble. The steward stared at her. Still staring, he

passed gingerly in front of her and entered the curtained room.

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