The key of the liquor-case was in the draw of an open secretary, which, fortunately, stood between him and the table.  Another effort was made to rise, which so far succeeded as to enable the invalid to sit up in his bed.  The cool breeze which aired the cabin revived him a little, and he was able to stretch out a hand and turn the cock of the filterer, which he had himself drawn near his berth, while under the excitement of fever, in order to obtain easy access to water.  Accidentally this filterer stood in a draught, and the quart or two of water that had not yet evaporated was cool and palatable; that is, cool for a ship and such a climate.  One swallow of the water was all Mark ventured on, but it revived him more than he could believe possible.  Near the glass into which he had drawn the water, lay a small piece of pilot bread, and this he dropped into the tumbler.  Then he ventured to try his feet, when he found a dizziness come over him, that compelled him to fall back on his berth.  Recovering from this in a minute or two, a second attempt succeeded better, and the poor fellow, by supporting himself against the bulkheads, and by leaning on chairs, was enabled to reach the desk.  The key was easily obtained, and the table was next reached.  Here Mark sunk into a chair, as much exhausted as he would have been, previously to his illness, by a desperate effort to defend life.

The invalid was in his shirt, and the cool sea-breeze had the effect of an air-bath on him.  It revived him in a little while, when he applied the key, opened the case, got out the bottle by using both hands, though it was nearly empty, and poured out a wine-glass of the liquor.  With these little exertions he was so much exhausted as almost to faint.  Nothing saved him, probably, but a sip of the wine which he took from the glass as it stood on the table.  It has been much the fashion, of late years, to decry wine, and this because it is a gift of Providence that has been greatly abused.  In Mark Woolston’s instance it proved, what it was designed to be, a blessing instead of a curse.  That single sip of wine produced an effect on him like that of magic.  It enabled him soon to obtain his tumbler of water, into which he poured the remainder of the liquor.  With the tumbler in his hand, the invalid next essayed to cross the cabin, and to reach the berth in the other state-room.  He was two or three minutes in making this passage, sustained by a chair, into which he sunk not less than three times, and revived by a few more sips of the wine and water.  In this state-room was a bed with clean cool linen, that had been prepared for Bob, but which that worthy fellow had pertinaciously refused to use, out of respect to his officer.  On these sheets Mark now sank, almost exhausted.  He had made a happy exchange, however, the freshness and sweetness of the new bed, of itself, acting as delicious restoratives.