The sounds, and the way the old man had been scrambling about by night, exploring ravines and caverns, exposing and overtaxing himself, told the story. He had come to the end of his crooked rope.
This was perfect. It had worked far better than Verrill had anticipated. Just sit and wait for silence and the finish.
But another ingredient took effect. Verrill's own long-sustained pretense of being a doctor drove him forward against his best interest. After two paces taken in a helpless daze, he was no longer compulsion-driven and bewildered; he ran, and with his kit. He had brought it with him, from force of habit as much as for making a show for the benefit of whomsoever he might encounter along the way to the border.
As he knelt beside his patient, Verrill concluded that Kwangtan's heart had been cutting up tricks; though with exposure and worry, other complications might have set in. He got his vials and his hypo and set to work.
Of a sudden, he knew that he was not alone with his patient. Startled, he glanced about.
Falana was in the doorway, and with her two of the guards. They held her by the arms. She had a bundle of something wrapped up in a shawl. Her face showed only impatience and annoyance at their stupidity. Their faces were still changing; the growth of understanding and the accepting of a new idea had not yet erased suspicion.
The sight of the trio gave Verrill the story, before any could speak: Falana, sensing what he planned, had packed up a bundle and had set out after him; and the guards, even though not getting the entire point, had suspected that the doctor was up to the very trick of which he had been accused. Falana had from the start been a hostage, at least a bond sufficiently strong to guarantee his good behavior. Thus the sight of her apparently preparing to follow him into the night had aroused all the suspicions which his work had lulled.
Falana said, "The poor fellow's half starved, Verrill! And shivering from cold! Let go of me, you blockheads—he's busy and I've got to give him a hand."
She plopped her bundle on the floor, brought out a small pot, and set to work heating water over the sacred flame.