When consciousness returned to me I found myself lying on my back on the deck of a vessel, surrounded and propped up by pillows; and Jack Brown sitting beside me reading a book.  
I felt a curious sensation of weakness and emptiness in my head—as if it were hollow, and a strange disinclination, almost inability, to speak or think. Suddenly this passed away, and the events which I have related in the previous chapters rushed back upon my memory with vivid power.
 
“It must have been a dream,” I thought, “or I must have been ill and delirious, and these things have passed through my fevered brain.”
 
At that moment the thought of Jack’s amputated leg came into my head. “That will prove it,” thought I, and turned quickly to look at my friend. One glance was sufficient—a wooden stump occupied the place of his right leg. I groaned aloud and burst into tears.
 
“Come, Bob,” said Jack in a soft, kind tone, laying down his book and bending over me. “Come, my poor fellow, keep quiet. It’s about time you had your dinner. Lie still and I’ll fetch it to you.”
 
I laid my hand on his arm and detained him. “Then it’s all true,” said I in a tone of the deepest despondency.
 
“Is what all true?”
 
“This—this horrible—your leg; your leg—”
 
Jack suddenly stooped and gazed earnestly into my face. “Do you know me, Bob?” He trembled as he spoke.
 
“Know you, Jack! why should I not know you? When did I ever forget you?”
 
“Thank God!” he exclaimed fervently, taking my hand and pressing it to his breast. “You’re all right again. Oh, how I have longed and prayed for this.”
 
“All right, Jack. Have I been wrong, then?”
 
“That you have just,” said Jack, smiling sadly. “You’ve just been as mad as a March hare, that’s all!”
 
I fell flat down and gazed at him. In a minute more I raised myself on one elbow, and, looking at him earnestly, said, “How long, Jack?”
 
“Just three weeks to-day.”
 
I fell flat down again, in which position Jack left me to go and fetch me some dinner. He returned quickly with a plate of soup. Before commencing to eat it I pressed my hand on my forehead, and said—
 
“Jack, I am surrounded by mysteries. How got you so soon well? Where got you that wooden leg? How are we here alone? Where are we going? Clear up my faculties, Jack, while I eat this soup—do, like a good fellow.”
 
“I can easily do that, Bob. First, I got well because you took care of me.”
 
“What! I?”
 
“Yes, you! At the commencement of your madness you tended me and cared for me as if you had been my mother. When you got to lose all ‘method in your madness’ I was well enough to take care of myself and you too. Secondly, I found this wooden leg in the carpenter’s berth, and gladly availed myself of its services, though it is three inches too short, and causes me to hobble in a most undignified manner. Thirdly, we are here alone because there is no one else with us. You took good care of that by cutting the ropes before any of our crew could get aboard—so you told me just before you went mad.”
 
“Oh! I remember now! I recollect it all. Go on.”
 
“Fourthly, as to where we are going, I don’t know. Our compass was smashed to pieces in the fight, and I’ve been running for the last three weeks right before the wind. So now you know all, and as you’ve finished you............