“No, sir; but it is my right to support her.”
“You are the first to break the contract which you yourself suggested,” said Hume bitterly; then quickly rising, he went to the waggon, to return with a drop of brandy. A little water was scattered on the white brow, and when presently the dark eyes opened again, the cup was held to her lips.
She rose up slowly, and looked long at them.
“Ah,” she said, “you must not leave me again.”
“Take my arm to the waggon,” said Hume tenderly.
“Let me carry you,” whispered Webster as gently.
She looked at her wounded hands and smiled, but when she saw the forlorn condition of her dress her feminine instincts rose in alarm. “Gracious heavens,” she murmured, “what a fright!” and vanished into the shelter of the waggon tent without support from either.
The two friends regarded each other with cold looks, then fell apart without a word.
“Baas,” said Klaas in Kaffir, “here come more horses.”
Hume picked up his double express and ran forward into the bush, while Webster, with gloomy and lowering brow, mounted guard at the waggon.