Here he flung himself down, dressed as he was, and lay like a log, for hours, not sleeping, but powerless to move hand or foot, and with his brain racked by torturing thoughts.

"As soon as I am able to stand again, I will see her father, and exact a reckoning from him," he said to himself again and again, during those long dreary hours of prostration; but when the next day came, he was too weak to raise himself from his narrow bed, and on the next day after that he was no better.

The steward was much concerned by his feeble condition, especially as it was no common case of sea-sickness; for John Saltram had told him that he was never sea-sick.
He brought the prostrate traveller soda-water and brandy, and tried to tempt him to eat rich soups of a nutritious character; but the sick man would take nothing except an occasional draught of soda-water.
On the third day of the voyage the steward was very anxious to bring the ship's surgeon to look at Mr.Saltram; but against this John Saltram resolutely set his face.
"For pity's sake, don't bore me with any more doctors!" he cried fretfully.

"I have had enough of that kind of thing.

The man can do nothing for me.