Ever since the death of the young
Highlander, Kenneth McGregor, he had had deep heart-searchings. Besides,
another event had occurred that had cast a shadow over the whole ship,
so sudden and so awful had it been.
[Sidenote: "In Spite of the Doctor"]
Mr. Grossman had made a wonderful recovery. Contrary to all
explanations, he was apparently almost well. It was his constant boast
that he had recovered "in spite of the doctor."
One evening dinner was going on, and Herr Grossman, who was still on
diet, and did not take all the courses, got up and declared that he
would go on deck. It was misty and raining a little. He sent for his
great coat and umbrella, and as his valet helped him on with his coat,
the doctor called out to him:
"Don't stay up long in the damp."
"Oh, I'll be down directly," he had answered. "I've no wish to lay
myself up again."
The company at table fell into talk, and it was some time before they
dispersed.
"It is time Mr. Grossman was down," said the doctor; "did you see him,
steward?"
"I saw him near an hour ago, sir, he stopped on his way up to light his
cigar at the tinder lamp on the stairs."
The doctor went up, but no Herr Grossman was to be seen. He and others
hunted all over the ship. At last a sort of panic prevailed. Where was
he? What had happened? The ship was stopped and boats lowered. Captain
Wylie was one of those who volunteered to go with the search party.
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