I thought of Pilgrim and his rejoicing when he at last got rid of his burden. Mine had indeed been grievous, and, like Pilgrim’s, it had been a burden of sin, even if not my own.
“Thank God that’s over!” I said.
“Yes, it’s a good job it’s gone so well. By Jove! how hot you are. Strip and have a sponge down and get into your pyjamas. I must put this bed to rights and pack the tackle.”
I took his advice and made myself comfortable as he plainly needed no help.
“Now I think we’ll have our final drink. Then I’ll have a couple of hours’ doss, and be off soon after dawn. I must not leave poor old Welfare too long in that beastly felucca. He won’t be having a very comfortable time, I can tell you. If those natives guessed what they had aboard I wouldn’t give much for his life.”
“Good Heavens! I never thought of that!”
“I know you didn’t. We didn’t want you to. But he has all ready to blow up the boat and cargo if he’s attacked. He would run no risk of the stuff getting back into circulation. Yes; on the whole old Welfare’s part of this racket is one of the few really courageous things I have known a man do.”
And I had never said a word to him! I had not known!
“He’s as pleased as punch about it,” continued Edmund. “He’s a sentimental old boy, and he has a feeling that he’s doing something to make up for the way he has treated you.”
“I shall be miserable until I know he is safe,” I said.