“They lie!” he exclaimed. “Yes, they lie, the cowards!”
This insult would have procured him a sound drubbing, but for the old surgeon, who held the arm of the first sailor who made the attack. Then, continuing his interrogatory, he asked,—
“Why did you hide?”
“I did not hide.”
“What were you doing there, crouching in the bush?”
“I was at my post, like the others. Do they require a permit to carry arms in Cochin China? I was not invited to your hunting party, to be sure; but I am fond of game; and I said to myself, ‘Even if I were to shoot two or three head out of the hundreds their drivers will bring down, I would do them no great harm.’”
The doctor let him talk on for some time, observing him closely with his sagacious eye; then, all of a sudden, he broke in, saying,—
“Give me your gun!”
The man turned so visibly pale, that all the officers standing around noticed it. Still he did what he was asked to do, and said,—
“Here it is. It’s a gun one of my friends has lent me.”