“Jarvis, sir? Why, him as ’listed some years ago, and fought under Lord Clyde in the Injies. Arter that they sent him to the other Injies, where the red men be, and they’ve taught him a power of strange tricks. He came here wi’ us, but he’s got lost since, or summat.”
“No, I baint lost, Joe,” said a tall young man, whose left cheek was one great red scar, and whose face had been bronzed by no English sun.
“Why, sure enough, it is Jarvis!” exclaimed Mr. Ashbrook. “Give us your hand, lad. Sure enough I shouldn’t ha’ known ye, they’ve knocked ye about so.”
“Aye, that they have, Master Ashbrook,” returned the soldier. “But tell us, neighbour, what you can about this night’s business.”
“You shall know all I know,” answered the farmer; who thereupon put the soldier in possession of all the facts with which the reader is already acquainted.
When he had finished, the soldier said, “I’ll be bound for it that the body of the dead or wounded man is not very far from here.”
“You think not?”
“Ah! that I do. We came up so soon that they’d have no time to get far away with that load upon their backs; and most likely they’ve been forced to hide it in a slovenly way.”