The first opportunity I could get to speak to Captain Faucon, I
asked him to step up to the oven and look at Hope, whom he knew
well, having had him on board his vessel. He went to see him, but said
that he had so little medicine, and expected to be so long on the
coast, that he could do nothing for him, but that Captain Arthur would
take care of him when he came down in the California, which would be
in a week or more. I had been to see Hope the first night after we got
into San Diego this last time, and had frequently since spent the
early part of a night in the oven. I hardly expected, when I left
him to go to windward, to find him alive upon my return. He was
certainly as low as he could well be when I left him, and what would
be the effect of the medicines that I gave him. I hardly then dared to
conjecture. Yet I knew that he must die without them. I was not a
little rejoiced, therefore, and relieved, upon our return, to see
him decidedly better. The medicines were strong, and took hold and
gave a check to the disorder which was destroying him; and, more
than that, they had begun the work of exterminating it.
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