“Dearest, this isn’t the time to be squeamish—for my sake, and for the sake of our little kid to come—just think of it as sustenance—close your eyes and get it down. Lots of sick people have to eat raw meat by order, and think nothing of it. And thank Hammond—don’t forget to thank Hammond before he goes, for—all he has done for us.”
“Before he goes?” she cried with frightened eyes. “Where? Why?”
Gently, with more confidence in his words than in his heart, he explained Hammond’s plan to her, and her eyes brightened. She had faith in Maryon’s plans; they always “came off.” And it would be only three days! It was a long time—but Marie would come back with help, and they would both he saved.
Suddenly, without a sound of his coming, Hammond was with them, carrying the can of water, and something wrapped in long fresh grass. Immediately Cara cried:
“Boston? Where is Boston, Marie?”
“I parted with him down by the river,” said Hammond, adding after a moment: “He is busy with part of the buck I got.”
He did not speak for a long time after that, seeming very intent on what he was doing—tearing the sleeves of his coat in strips to bind round his feet. His shirt had been used up for de Rivas’ wound. After he had finished this, the only preparation for his journey, he sat talking cheerfully to Cara for awhile, asking for messages for friends in Salisbury, and inviting her to choose the men she wanted for her “relief patrol.” Hardly in keeping with these gay whispers were his words in de Rivas’ off ear, as he thrust his revolver into de Rivas’ off pocket.
“I’ll take yours instead. It may serve to smash a skull with, at a pinch.”
Now de Rivas’ revolver was empty; it was Hammond’s that contained the one cartridge for a certain emergency—the frightful emergency which all brave men who take charge of women in a savage country must be willing to face! But Cara, whom this little incident chiefly concerned, knew nothing of it. Almost light-heartedly she bade Hammond farewell, thanking him as her husband had told her for all he had done, far from knowing how much that was, and how much it might be before the end.