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alongside of John--stem to stem we was, all night.”
Dr. Livesey was by this time across the stockade and pretty
near the cook, and I could hear the alteration in his voice as he
said, “Not Jim?”
“The very same Jim as ever was,” says Silver.
The doctor stopped outright, although he did not speak, and it
was some seconds before he seemed able to move on.
“Well, well,” he said at last, “duty first and pleasure afterwards,
as you might have said yourself, Silver. Let us overhaul these
patients of yours.”
A moment afterwards he had entered the block house and with
one grim nod to me proceeded with his work among the sick. He
seemed under no apprehension, though he must have known that
his life, among these treacherous demons, depended on a hair; and
he rattled on to his patients as if he were paying an ordinary
professional visit in a quiet English family. His manner, I suppose,
reacted on the men, for they behaved to him as if nothing had
occurred, as if he were still ship’s doctor and they still faithful
hands before the mast.
“You’re doing well, my friend,” he said to the fellow with the
bandaged head, “and if ever any person had a close shave, it was
you; your head must be as hard as iron. Well, George, how goes it?
You’re a pretty colour, certainly; why, your liver, man, is upside
down. Did you take that medicine? Did he take that medicine,
“Aye, aye, sir, he took it, sure enough,” returned Morgan.
“Because, you see, since I am mutineers’ doctor, or prison
doctor as I prefer to call it,” says Doctor Livesey in his pleasantest
way, “I make it a point of honour not to lose a man for King